Far Beneath the Bitter Snow
by Old Romantic
Summary: What if Belle had refused to leave Rumpel's castle, knowing she'd be rejected at home?  A happier Beauty and the Beast ending.  RumBelle, with the other characters from the Fairytale World thrown in, AU, Multi-chapter.
1. Prologue

**Rating/Warnings: PG/T / no warnings  
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**Spoilers/Timeline: **Up to the scene described at the beginning of this fic, near the end of 1x12 - Skin Deep, though depending on how long this goes, I may incorporate a few details from future eps into it. After that, AU.

**Disclaimer: **_Once Upon a Time_ belongs to ABC, which is convenient, so that they get all the details of the Disney movies correct. Being a native of Orlando is the closest I come to Disney and ABC, et al, and unless I get a job or sell one of my two original novels, I won't be making any money anytime soon. So, yeah, this (as with any of my fanfiction stories) is just for my entertainment and hopefully yours. The title is from the song "The Rose" by Bette Midler, which also doesn't belong to me.

**Summary: **What if Belle had refused to leave Rumpel's castle, knowing she'd be rejected at home? (Regardless of the veracity of Regina's story - I'm assuming it to be only partly true, if at all.) Going AU from the starting point at the end of "Skin Deep." (The beginning of the conversation from that ep obviously belongs to ABC as well.)

**A/N:** Don't get me wrong - I like where they went in this story in the show, mostly because there is a purpose and an endgame (at least, I hope so) to Rumpel and Belle's separation in both worlds, but…I still wanted my Beauty and the Beast story to have a happy ending. Hopefully you'll like it too.

Many thanks to my beta, **TrueLove'sMiss**, for her awesome constructive criticism. She truly does make me think about how to write better. :)

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Prologue:<strong>

It was a simple, two-letter word that was spoken and granted her freedom, only Belle hadn't been expecting it when Rumpelstiltskin opened her cell door. Once voicing his short command for her to leave, he pointed his finger toward the door and turned his back on her, obviously believing she'd take the freedom and run for it. But she was puzzled.

"Go?" she questioned, having assumed the worst kind of punishment imaginable in the many hours she'd spent in that dungeon. _That's it? _went unvoiced, afraid he might change his mind. Still, the sudden change of heart from the monster who'd thrown her in there was confusing, and she felt like she needed answers.

He kept his back to her, staring at the opposite wall, speaking callously toward her. "I don't want you anymore, dearie," he replied lightly, as easily as plucking a petal from a daisy.

It pained her to hear those disinterested words so soon after having shared a kiss that almost transformed him, proof that what they had was true love. It was clear now that whatever was between them before had all been destroyed. She doubted he'd let go of the hold he had on his power to ever try again.

Crushed, she made it to the door, focusing instead to the warm welcome she'd have at home, when it hit her that she'd been gone for _months_. Months spent with a strange man - well, a _former_ man, anyway - that would tarnish her reputation. Even though their interactions had been completely at arms' length until that kiss, living alone with a man that wasn't your husband for months at a time was simply not done. Gaston would surely repel her as well as every other possible suitor. In fact, that explained why Gaston hadn't even bothered to come and fight for her - he didn't want a tainted wife.

Belle spun on her heel and faced the imp, who was still standing in the same position, staring at the wall, waiting for her to leave. "Where am I to go?"

"Wherever you'd like," he lashed, enunciating each syllable with fury.

She took a bold step forward, his anger only compounding her own. "No. I mean, I can't go home. No one will _want_ me after I've been here."

His eyes darted slightly to her side as he answered, "That's not my problem."

Belle stomped over to stand in front of him. "Since you made a deal with me and my father to keep me forever, yes, it is. You can't just throw me out whenever you'd like."

He finally met her eyes. "I don't want you here," he grit his teeth, "doing the queen's bidding."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she emphasized each word. "And I have no interest in being a pawn in whatever game of power the two of you are playing. I simply cannot go home and shame my father's house. And you cannot dishonor your own agreement to keep me here by forcing me to leave."

Rumpelstiltskin knew he was beat. Belle was definitely smarter than he'd thought any woman could be.

"I won't touch you," Belle was promising, though it pained her to say so. Tears of hurt and anger began to form in her eyes. "I won't even _talk_ to you, if you'd like. I'll just continue with my cleaning and cooking duties as long as you allow me to stay."

His lips quivered with frustration, the anger still evident and full-force in his hardened gaze. He'd never once gone back on his part of any of his deals, and he couldn't start now, even if it wasn't working out like he'd thought it would. He peered deep into her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts. "And what about your…_love_?" he practically sneered, his nose and top lip twitching in a sort of disgust.

Belle rocked in her shoes, not allowing herself to tear her gaze away from his, but matching his stubbornness with her own. "I was obviously mistaken. I will have no trouble keeping my distance from you."

"Fine," he forced out through his clenched teeth, and she could clearly see the pain in his eyes he was trying so hard to fight. He moved away from her quickly, stopping at the door to toss over his shoulder, "Make up a bedroom for yourself in the east wing, and help yourself to the kitchen for your meals. I have some errands to run. I'll be gone a…couple of weeks."

He took off just as she opened her mouth to ask why so long. But his loud, echoing footsteps taking him away from her answered her question. He was running from her.

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><p>TBC<p>

_I'll try to update every few days or so. I'm a few chapters ahead, so as long as I don't get blocked, that should be a doable goal. :) Reviews, comments, questions, quotes are all welcomed! _


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Okay, I'm giving you guys this chapter a little sooner, mostly because the prologue was quite short. The rest of the chapters will be posted every few days. I'm expecting the story to be at least 10 chapters, but knowing me, it could quite possibly end up being 20. And that's just this story. At this point, I won't even mention the sequel... *whistles*

Thank you so much for the reviews so far! I'd no idea how many would be drawn in by just the idea! I know I'm probably not the only one who's had this idea, but I do hope that this story lives up to your expectations. :) I'll do my best, and if I don't, I have my fabulous beta, **Tru****eLove'sMiss**, to keep me in line and make the story better!

Thanks again, and enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

Belle was certain by the silence in the castle that Rumpelstiltskin had left immediately after their conversation; she wondered if he'd even taken the time to stop by his room in the west wing to pack a bag. It didn't matter, she decided with a determined sigh. She'd stood up for herself and earned the right to stay in his home, and whether he ever came back or not, she would forever have a place to live.

Then it hit her - he might not come back at all. She stopped and looked around at the vast house, wondering what a lifetime alone would be like there. From its marble entrance to its intricately carved wainscoting and three-story-high ceiling, it seemed so dark and dismal and…empty. But maybe she could brighten it up some. She would make it feel like home.

Having been all over the castle during the previous months as a domestic, Belle knew just exactly which room she'd choose. Stopping by the linen closet for some fresh sheets, she went into the bedroom at the furthest end of the east wing that had the most windows. She adored the natural light in the room, with its tall windows and high ceiling. And the whites and yellows on the bedding, canopy, curtains, and walls made it feel cheery, even in this dreary castle owned by this miserable man.

She tried not to think of him, but couldn't stop her mind from wandering about just why he liked his curse so much, while she tucked the sheets around the mattress. She thought he'd be thrilled with the idea of becoming a man again, of finding love with her, and being free. Instead, he'd held on to his curse like a child afraid to give up his most special toy. Well, so be it, she conceded as she tossed a pillow onto the finished bed.

Hungry from her time of punishment in the dungeon, Belle decided the next order of business would to see about something to eat. Since it was clear the master of the house wasn't planning on being back for some time, if at all, Belle would only have to worry about cooking enough for one.

At first, it was lonely, making her plate and eating every meal in the kitchen in silence, having nothing but her thoughts to keep her company. But she wouldn't allow herself to mourn for long, making sure to get up and keep busy so that her heart didn't become so idle that she would feel the hurt. It would creep up so easily if she wasn't careful.

Cooking and baking was normally one of her favorite pastimes, so she made herself try new recipes from the various cookbooks she'd found, perhaps foolishly hoping she'd have a chance to make them again for Rumpelstiltskin someday. She even perfected her bread recipe over time and learned how to can fruits and vegetables from the garden for use during the winter.

Occasionally, she would travel to town for supplies, taking herbs, flowers, and produce from the garden to trade for other provisions, just for interaction with other people. After her last experience, though, she took cover in the woods whenever a carriage would pass, just in case the queen was on the road. She didn't want to ever see her again nor even talk to her for what she'd done, turning Rumpelstiltskin against her. She'd at last had a glimpse of what it was like to be in love until the queen had interfered. She didn't want to give her the satisfaction of having an opportunity like that again, for his sake _and_ hers.

Back at home, cleaning became her favorite thing to do. With the house empty, she felt more free to go wherever she felt her services were needed, oftentimes getting lost in large rooms like the library for days. She'd clean for several hours and then rest, rewarding herself with reading one of the numerous books he had collected. She'd spend a lot of time outside tending the vast garden as well, mostly for some sunshine and fresh air, sometimes taking a book out there to read while sitting in the plush grass by the pond if she just needed a break. Life in her castle wasn't all that bad…but it was lonely.

The dining room where Rumpelstiltskin liked to spin his straw into gold was a mess the first time she came into it. She imagined she was the cause of whatever rage had gone through him once he'd locked her in her cell, and it saddened her. Her kiss and the love they shared in that room meant nothing now. At first, she'd found the pain in the memories unbearable; she'd left and closed the doors behind her, unable to return to it for several days.

When she finally determined the dining hall must be cleaned, she steeled her resolve and returned to the room. For a time, she just walked around and studied the mess of glass and wood and china. The beautifully-crafted cabinet doors had been destroyed. All of the dishes in his tea set were in tiny pieces against the wall. Then she recalled staring at that chipped cup and the matching teapot in her cell moments before he'd freed her. Were they the only pieces he'd spared? It seemed odd. She would've guessed that cup would have been the first victim of his fury, since she had been the one to chip it; surely it was a reminder of her, and he'd want it out of his sight. But the teacup was still intact and still in her cell when she went looking for it.

Holding the chipped cup in her hand, she replayed how he'd brought her that tea that morning. Having a difficult night's sleep on the cold stone bed, Belle was awake when the door unlocked before dawn, and he came in with the tea. She'd sat up straight, awaiting punishment, but without saying a word or meeting her eyes, he simply set the tray on the ground, and then turned to walk out, closing and locking the door. It was at this moment that Belle realized he truly did care about her; otherwise, if he'd just wanted to get rid of her, he would not have had any concern for her well-being enough to bring her a morning refreshment.

She also realized that his temper tantrum might've taken place that morning, which would explain how the cup had been spared, although that didn't seem to fit his mood at the time. When he'd thrown her in the dungeon the night before, he'd been livid. She'd feared that he was going to break something and could only hope it wouldn't be her. That seemed like the more likely occasion for such a fit of rage as evidenced by the mess upstairs.

Suddenly, the cup seemed special. It was as if it was the only thing that brought his heart closer to hers. Whether he admitted it or not, she'd managed to break through some of that wall he'd built around his heart over years of pain and heartache…and it had all started with a chip. Perhaps there was hope that she could someday chisel away at his hardened heart again.

But first, she had to prove herself capable of ignoring her feelings and holding to her end of the bargain in order to regain his trust. That meant that she would have to do everything expected of her and keep her distance. That, she decided, was a test she would not fail.

Back upstairs, Belle washed the cup and its matching teapot and put the set on the shelves in the dining hall with the others. Then, with her hands on her hips, she turned her attention to the cabinet built into the wall, assessing a way to clean it up.

The doors were beyond repair and would have to be entirely rebuilt and replaced. She took care of sweeping up the glass first and then found a tool to take the doors off of their hinges to be discarded. It was not an easy task, trying to juggle the cumbersome wood frames while standing on that tall ladder, but somehow she managed, and when the room was clean again, back to the way it was before, she knew it had been worth it.

It became a routine to clean the common areas of the castle three days a week, focusing on the bedrooms the other days, cleaning and dusting every little trinket and window and corner. She just skimmed over rooms like the one where he concocted his potions in the west tower, making sure not to touch or move any of the bottles or jars. Having been part of her duties before, she would hurry through cleaning Rumpelstiltskin's room, feeling a bit like an intruder whenever she was in there. He'd warned her early on to stay out of the room next door to his, and she had done as promised…until she chased some dust under the door with a broom one day and felt she had to clean it or later face the consequences of making a mess.

She gasped when she opened the door to find that it wasn't even big enough to be considered a closet. Merely six inches deep, it held only a dagger, mounted on the wall, blade-side down. Red-faced and ashamed that she'd unearthed a secret of which he probably wouldn't want her to know, Belle hurriedly swept the dust back out. But she still glanced at the knife one more time as she closed the door. Something on the blade caught her eye and made her curious enough to peer closer. It was etched lettering, spelling out…a name. It read, "Rumpelstilt-"

"I told you to stay out of there!" the imp's harsh voice yelled from behind her, causing Belle to jump and drop the broom. She hadn't even heard any footsteps, as if he appeared just as magically as that day they'd met in her father's castle.

"I-I-I'm sorry," she declared in a frightened squeak, holding her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I-I was just cleaning and-and-"

Rumpelstiltskin shut the door and stood in front of it, glaring at her in fury. "You just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

She was still shocked at finding that she was no longer alone in the house. How long had he been home? "No, no, I wasn't doing anything-"

"For this, you must be punished-"

She panicked. Had he been home and watching her the whole time, just waiting for her to screw up and pounce? He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the stairs. "No, please, no, not the dungeon again," she begged. "I know I did wrong, and I'm sorry. I won't touch anything of yours again." His uncompromising silence frustrated her. He was practically carrying her down each step, which was often by the way he yanked and pulled her at her arm to lead her, causing her to stumble. He opened the door to the basement. "Where did you go?" she tried, hoping that making conversation would draw some compassion out of him. "Have you been home long? Did you just get back? The castle was quiet without you here."

"Don't try any of your tricks," he seethed, lugging her down the narrow stairs toward the dungeon and making her steps falter behind him again.

"I'm not, I promise," she pleaded, managing to regain her footing. "It's just been so lonely here by myself, that's all. I'm not used to being alone for so long." She'd lost track of how long it had been, but she was sure it was closer to a month than the two weeks he'd predicted. "Do you always travel for such a long time?"

"No," she was sure she heard him say, though he wouldn't repeat his answer when she asked. Since acquiring the castle through one of his bargains, he'd found it so comforting, he'd rarely leave, only for short periods of time to meet with those in need of his services. With her staying in his home, though, he'd merely left so that he wouldn't be near her, tempted and vulnerable. He'd come so close to losing his powers he'd worked so hard to keep - too close, in fact. Now that he knew how easily he could lose them, he wouldn't let himself be tricked again. Because of the deal he'd made, he would just have to keep Belle as promised, make her continue on as a servant and keep a distance between them. He could live with her that way, as long as she obeyed his rules and suffered the consequences when she didn't.

This punishment in mind for her trespassing, he pushed her into her cell when they reached it, but this time, she kept her footing and didn't fall. She spun around, stared into his face, and innocently asked, "Are you going to leave like that again?"

He closed and locked the door without a reply, regretting the day he'd made that deal with her father and his village. He'd thought that having a servant girl - and a beautiful one at that - would be entertaining and fun; he'd had no idea how much of a problem she would turn out to be. It figured; though he supposed it had just been too long since he'd had a woman to contend with, he'd forgotten how much trouble they could be. The bargain no longer seemed as one-sided as it did in the beginning. She was turning out to be more trouble than she was worth.

Storming away with the keys, he hurried back up to the comfort of his spinning wheel, hoping its powers of forgetfulness would work on him again. He didn't want to remember the pain he'd felt in his heart when he saw the expression on her face as he'd closed the dungeon door between them. At times it was like she was a child, so innocent and eager to please; and others, she was a woman so beautiful and sure of herself and far too good for the likes of someone like him. Neither expression was what he needed to remember now that she'd betrayed him yet again.

Recalling his tantrum a month ago as he ascended the stairs, he resigned himself to clean up the mess in the dining hall before he began to spin. Opening the doors with a flick of his wrist, he walked into the room and stopped suddenly, surprised to notice that the broken doors on the cabinet on the opposite wall were missing. There was a glowing fire in the fireplace. His mouth open slightly in shock, Rumpelstiltskin made his way around the room, noting all that Belle had done in his absence. All the broken glass had been swept up. The mirror had been covered again with its drape. What was left of his tea set was clean and placed on one of the shelves. Purple wildflowers were in the gold vase on the table; he wondered if she picked fresh ones every day and kept the fire going to warm the room in anticipation of his arrival. Even his spinning wheel had ample amount of straw sitting beside it in its basket. She'd obviously gone to town. For him.

Rumpelstiltskin slowly made his way back out of the room. Why had she done so much for him? Why did she care, even when he'd purposely withheld mercy? Now the fact that he'd caught her upon his arrival home with his powerful knife didn't seem like that big of an offense. After all, it wasn't likely that she knew what the dagger was or stood for, so why had he overreacted? He would just have to find a better hiding place for the knife, and that would solve the problem, should she ever learn what power it held.

Belle heard the key in the lock and wondered why Rumpelstiltskin was coming back so soon. She stood up and almost fearfully stood to face him. But no, she wouldn't allow herself to be afraid of this man. Instead, she felt sorry for him.

Once the door was open, Rumpelstiltskin stood back and held it, gesturing for her to come out, without meeting her eyes. "You may go to your room," he spoke quietly, emotionlessly.

"But… My room? I thought I -"

"You're never to go into the west wing again. Understood?"

"Yes," she nodded, still confused that she was no longer being punished. She wasn't going to argue, however, as she came to stand in front of him. "Not even to clean?"

"It won't be necessary. I'll clean my own room. The others will be closed up."

She nodded in understanding and stared at a button on his leather vest. "I truly am sorry if I violated your privacy. I promise to do what it is you ask of me from now on, no matter what."

He dropped his chin to his chest in acknowledgment.

Belle started for the stairs but stopped. "Dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," he declared. "You go on and fix something for yourself. I'm going to spin. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she blinked up at him, surprised at the pleasantry. Her head bowed, she made her way back up the stairs.

Her stomach was too tied in knots to consider eating anything, so she just continued on up to the third level and readied for bed. But she wasn't tired, and no matter how tightly she squeezed shut her eyes, she couldn't stop from picturing his face, so humbled and kind when he wanted to be. And when he was angry, he was frightening. It amazed her that he was the same man in both instances at times.

_He's not_, her inner self argued. _He's cursed. _She'd learned that firsthand, watching the curse melt away from his face and hands after she'd kissed him. Oh, if only he'd let it happen. She wanted him to be free from it, free to be in love with her the way she was with him. He was convinced that her love was merely a ruse to take away his power, but he couldn't be further from the truth. Until he started yelling at the mirror (really, to the queen, she'd learned), she had no idea that the queen's advice to cure him had been selfish on her part. It appeared that she and Rumpelstiltskin had been immersed in this battle for power for some time, and that wicked woman had seen her only as a tool and not the friend she'd pretended to be. It made Belle hate that queen that much more, though Rumpelstiltskin's despise for her was obviously enough on its own.

She'd been in bed several hours when her stomach rumbled with hunger, and she knew she wouldn't get to sleep at all unless she settled it first. With a sigh, Belle got up and put on her robe, heading to the kitchen for a snack.

Taking a loaf of bread she'd baked that morning, Belle cut a slice and put it on a plate, slathering it with butter. It made her think of her father and how much he loved her homemade bread and butter. If only she had some jam too, she thought, wondering if there were enough blackberries in that patch of woods behind the castle that she'd found to make some jars of-

"Raiding the pantry, I see," Rumpelstiltskin said, making her jump yet again, this time, managing to hold onto her plate instead of dropping it onto the floor, where it would surely break into pieces.

She turned to find him behind her in the doorway. "Oh," she thought to say, "I thought it would be all right, since you said I could help myself to anything in the kitchen."

"Yes, it's fine," he replied casually, sauntering into the room to toy with the fruit sitting in a bowl in the middle of the wooden island table. "I was getting a little hungry myself."

"I could make you something," she offered, setting her plate down to be at the ready.

"No, no," he waved her off. "Don't go to any trouble. I'll just have…" he eyeballed her bread and butter, "whatever you're having."

"Oh, of course," she nodded, moving to cut another slice of bread and butter it for him, putting it on a fresh plate.

He took the opportunity to observe her while she was turned away. Dressed in a nightgown and robe, stockings on her otherwise bare feet, and her hair pinned in some sort of haphazard bun at the apex of her skull, a few wayward curls falling stubbornly from its knot… She was a perfect picture of messy and beautiful at the same time. If there were only a word for such combined traits, he thought, just as she turned and passed him a plate with the buttered bread.

Belle watched as he held the plate and studied it, laughing quietly when he didn't move to take a bite. "Well?" she prodded, gesturing for him to lift it to his lips and try it.

He did lift the plate, but only to bring it closer to sniff it. "You made this?"

She nodded. "I bought the milk to make the butter from a merchant in town."

He furrowed his brow, squeezing the piece on his plate as if to test its sponginess. "I've never known bread and butter to be so…fluffy."

Belle giggled at the sound of such a silly word coming from his lips. "You'll have to tell me what you think of how it tastes."

With that, he took a bite, took his time chewing it, and swallowed. All the while she waited with bated breath. "Delicious," he decided. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"My mother," she declared. "Before she died, she loved to cook and taught me all the basics. It wasn't until recent years that my father was elevated to his position as our village's leader, and until then we couldn't afford a cook. As the eldest girl, I was responsible for the meals for my family from the time my mother died when I was ten until just five years ago."

Rumpelstiltskin just stared at her while she spoke, not even taking another bite of his bread.

She shook her head, not wanting to talk of the loss of her family. "Anyway, the bread recipe was my mother's. I've changed it a bit over the years to suit my tastes. Mother always liked hers sweet, while I like for it to have a more nutty, full-bodied taste."

"Yes, I agree. It is quite good."

He still had yet to take his gaze off of her as he leaned casually on the doorjamb, and Belle was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious. She stuffed what was left of her piece into her mouth and turned to set the plate in the basin of soapy water. It had been hours since she last did dishes - more than half the day actually - so the water was cold. And in the chilly castle, it was just freezing enough to make her flinch and jerk her hands back with a yelp.

Rumpelstiltskin assumed she'd just seen a mouse, but was only alarmed enough to pull away from the doorframe. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing. The water's just cold."

"We could heat some in the kettle," he offered, pointing with one finger behind her at the stove.

"No need," she smiled. "It's just a couple of plates. I'll be fine."

She washed her plate and took his to do the same when she held her hand out for it. Rumpelstiltskin watched her curiously the whole time, until she was done and had dried her hands on a towel. Then she faced him, wiping her palms on her robe, biting her lip. "Well, uh…I'll just…I'll see you in the morning, I guess. You will be here, right?"

"Oh, yes, I'll be here," he nodded, still mesmerized a bit by her.

"I'll have breakfast ready for you, then," she half-smiled, picking up the candlestick she'd brought with her and stepping around him to go through the door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he quietly replied. "Oh, Belle," he spoke so softly that she nearly missed it and kept walking.

But she stopped outside the door and met his gaze. "Yes?"

"Thank you…for cleaning the mess in the dining hall. I should have attended to that before I left."

She genuinely smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You're welcome."

"And for the straw."

She bobbed her head once. "Of course."

"And, however did you manage to take down the cabinet doors by yourself?"

She smiled so suddenly, she nearly laughed. "My mother would call me tenacious. My father would say, 'Where there's a will, there's a way, I suppose. That's just our Belle.'"

Rumpelstiltskin understood that reasoning, since he, too, found himself surprised by what she could withstand, both physically and emotionally. She never seemed to be truly afraid of him the way others always were; instead, asking him questions and delving into his psyche, trying to draw him out. Why did she do that? He didn't know, only having to accept that she was just that way, "just Belle."

He was lost in his own thoughts for too long to make either of them feel comfortable, and when he realized this, he managed to mumble a "yes" and another "goodnight," allowing her to go. And when she did, it wasn't without him stepping into the hall and watching her figure sashay into the dark, silhouetted only by the light of her candle. She was amazing in a way he'd never known. She was as hardworking as any man he'd ever met, as enchanting as a harvest moon, and as beautiful as a sunrise on a clear day. Perhaps he hadn't been so unwise to barter for her after all.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sorry if I took too long in updating this - I was going over and over it and the following chapters, making sure to stay in character and not rush the story too fast. I didn't want to disappoint you guys!

To answer some concerns: don't worry - I will not give up on this story. I have it planned all the way to the end, so it shouldn't be that difficult for me to write. I will also do my best to make it last as long as possible.

Many, many thanks to **TrueLove'sMiss**, because, seriously, without her, this story would be a mess!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2:<strong>

He was pleased to see that Belle was already in the dining hall when he came in the next morning, dusting the various collectibles on the shelves. A covered plate was positioned at the head of the table, and a fire was roaring, licking the bottom end of the chimney with its flames, yet, it wasn't even light outside. How long had she been up?

When she heard him come in, she hurried over and greeted Rumpelstiltskin with a nod and a courteous smile. "Your breakfast, sir," she said like a true servant, placing her hand on the lid of the plate until he took his seat. Then she opened it to reveal a pan-seared steak, fried eggs, cut-up fresh fruit…and a piece of her bread with butter.

"Beautiful," he commented, his gaze wandering from his plate to her face.

Blushing at the unexpected attention, Belle quickly curtsied and started for the door. Without admitting it, she was running from _her_ feelings this time, away from him and his infectious sense of humor and the kind eyes he tried to hide behind the love of his power.

He hadn't meant his simple comment as a test, but her reaction had been useful. Perhaps there was a way to prove her sincerity, by merely pretending to be interested in her. "Uh, have you eaten?" Rumpelstiltskin asked before she could get too far away.

"Yes," she answered quickly over her shoulder. "Earlier, in the kitchen. I have chores to do." And then she was gone. He could only assume she was taking this agreement to remain merely as his servant very seriously, though, he didn't feel he'd won that round.

She appeared again an hour or so later, quietly slipping in to clear his dishes while he was spinning. She was so quiet, in fact, that he almost missed seeing her completely, since he was so wrapped up in his task. He opened his mouth to speak, just as he caught sight of the swaying of her skirt as she passed through the doors and they closed behind her. Another opportunity was missed, but that couldn't be what produced the feeling of emptiness from her absence.

Sighing, Rumpelstiltskin went back to his task, hoping that it would get easier as the days passed. Belle rarely spent any time in the dining hall with him the way she had before, keeping herself busy in the other parts of the house. He didn't understand why he even cared; he'd been alone for years in his echoing castle, and his aloneness hadn't bothered him then. Why now?

There had been several occasions where his path had crossed hers, and he thought it had felt awkward and unusual. What was it about her that made him uncomfortable in his own home? More than once after those first few days, he'd avoided running into her when he saw her coming toward him. He'd stop and linger behind a column or duck in an adjacent hallway until she passed. In those moments, he'd watch how she moved, her gracefulness and hard-working effort she put into every task. She cleaned windows and banisters and cobwebs out of dark corners, even getting down on her knees to scrub a little bit of the floor each day with a bucket of soapy water and a rag. Rumpelstiltskin could only watch in amazement, and over time, as he learned her rigorous schedule, he found that he would _purposely_ be in a position where he could see her. He would never admit it, however. He was just making sure she was doing her job.

One particular day, when she'd dedicated her time to laundry, their paths unexpectedly crossed, and he was too lost in thought to stop it. He'd been so wrapped up devising a plan to find a certain fairy godmother that he literally bumped into Belle on the landing of the stairs. After apologies for the bumble, they started off on their separate ways, his thoughts again focused on the fairy godmother and her powerful wand he wanted to acquire.

"Rumpelstiltskin?" she said hesitantly, snapping him back to the present. He had to clear his mind to stop and give her his attention. For a moment, he was struck by the sight of her standing above him on the landing in front of the windows with the light surrounding her thin but shapely frame.

She held out the basket she was carrying. "Y-your clothes. What should I do with them? Normally I would put them away for you, but since I'm not allowed in your room-"

"Oh," he mouthed, walking back up the handful of steps he'd descended. "I'll take them." He reached out his hands to take the basket from her, but she held it fast.

"Um, my things are in here too."

Rumpelstiltskin's gaze met hers. Something about the way she'd said it made it sound so intimate, having just their clean clothes folded in the same basket, side-by-side. He felt warmed by the idea, but he'd been on his way out. There was a king who knew of this fairy godmother and might be willing to bargain with him again now that he'd lost the son the imp had given him thirty years prior. "I tell you what," he decided, believing that it would be faster and would take care of her problem if he dealt with it before his trip. Though he'd relocated the dagger, he still wanted her to keep out of the west wing. "I'll accompany you to the bedroom to put them away, and then you may take the basket back to your own room."

She concurred, "A man shouldn't have to do woman's work, anyway."

He took a moment to mull over the fact that she'd again called him a man, but then with a nod, he started up the next section of stairs to the second floor, all the way to his room, with her a few paces behind him.

Belle had, of course, been in there before, but only alone to clean. Rumpelstiltskin had never joined her in the room until now, and it was a little disconcerting, considering her feelings for him. But she wouldn't be distracted, she decided, getting down to the business of putting away his shirts and pants and other items. Some things had to be hung in his wardrobe while others were tucked into the drawers of the chest on the north wall. He perched in a chair on the opposite side of the room to watch her, leaning way back in the chair, with his fingers steepled in front of him, the way he often did. His eyes on her every move made Belle slightly nervous. She talked to him to rid her of the nerves, asking about the age of the castle and how long he'd lived there.

"Oh, about a decade now, though the castle is quite old. I got it as part of a deal," his voice sang as he looked around at the decorative crown-molding, as if admiring his own acquisition.

Belle snickered. "Of course." She moved from the closet to put a nightshirt in a drawer. "Have you always…made deals? I mean, since you got your…power?"

"I find it suits everyone involved, yes," he said thoughtfully, sitting so still as he spoke that, were it not for the movement of his lips, he could pass for a statue. "Most people are willing to give up even the most precious of things in exchange for finding their dreams or saving their lives…"

"And that's what you're seeking to acquire from people? Their most precious things?" She closed the drawer and went back to the basket for another item. She could've organized the clothes a bit better to make the time pass quicker, but she didn't, enjoying having the opportunity to question him a little.

"I like to have precious things, too, dearie."

Belle's breath caught in her throat as her hands stilled and she stared up at him. Did that include her? "Like me?" she couldn't stop her lips from asking.

He took a moment to reply softly, "Yes."

Picking up the last of his stack, she held the articles in her hands. "Did you intend for me to only be your servant forever? Or was there…more?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly, his voice sounding more and more like the man she'd only seen for a moment, those seconds after their kiss. His voice returned to its squeaky pitch. "I hadn't thought that far ahead, I guess."

Belle nodded and put the last two things in his drawer, shutting it and picking up the basket. "I'm finished." She started for the door.

"Good," Rumpelstiltskin commented as he stood and she passed him. "Oh," he snapped his fingers. "Don't bother with dinner for me this evening. I have to go out again."

Belle stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "But…you'll be back."

"Yes," he replied, holding out the vowel for a long moment, finding it disconcerting that she still found the need to play the game of pretending she was interested in spending time with him. How long must this charade go on? Didn't she realize that he no longer believed the lies intended to rid him of his power? Surely the queen coached her on just what to say and do to make him succumb to her wiles…

She finally spoke again. "I'll…see you tomorrow, then."

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><p>Belle's mocking innocence and sweetness was still with him as he went through his day. First stop was to meet with King George and, with the loss of his precious son, James, help him through yet another trial. Apparently, he'd promised his son would slay a dragon for another king to save his own kingdom, only James died tragically right after sealing the deal with Midas. King George wanted his son back, but resurrections weren't possible by magic. Fortunately for him, when he'd bartered for his son some thirty years before, Rumpelstiltskin had found a man with identical twin sons willing to give up one for a need of his own to be met in return, and the deal was struck. Now that James was dead, his twin would be the only solution to King George's conundrum.<p>

Since King George couldn't be seen talking to the commoner identical to his son, lest it get back to Midas, he had sent Rumpelstiltskin in his place to finalize the deal, promising the boy's mother in exchange that she would be well taken care of for the rest of her life. Considering their lack of wealth, it seemed like the perfect bargain; however, had it been his, Rumpelstiltskin would've asked for a bit more than just to borrow the shepherd for a few days as the king had requested.

While he waited as the mother explained to her son how he'd never known about a twin brother, Rumpelstiltskin's mind wandered to Belle and what she was doing at that very moment. It was a Thursday, so it was likely she was in the library again, dusting books and shelves and putting it all back in right order. She'd follow that up by choosing a book to read and sitting in the garden or by the pond or- Why was he thinking of her again? It seemed like every time he stopped to take a breath, she was in his mind and heart. He had to clear them, to purge those bright blue eyes from his memory, to forget to what it was like to love and be loved, even momentarily, and to scrub the taste of her lips from his.

He pulled out his flask and took a sip, hoping the strong liquor would sting his tongue and burn her from his heart. _Business_, he thought, _stick to business._He focused his attention then on what the mother and son were discussing, following their words by letting the memories of that thirty-year-old bargain replay in his mind. It was definitely better than allowing Belle run his thoughts. Putting others in a difficult spot and having them make painful decisions was far better than feeling the results of his own.

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><p>Belle was awake and worried for the first part of the night, when a huge lightning storm appeared to be brewing to the north. She wasn't sure which way Rumpelstiltskin had traveled since she hadn't seen him leave, and she knew he must have some kind of supernatural way of transporting from one place to another, but still, she couldn't sleep. She thought he'd have been home hours earlier. With each rumble of thunder, her heart beat a little faster. Finally, she gave up on trying altogether and sat up in the library's window seat with her favorite book. She tried to read, but found that she was too involved with watching down the road leading up to their castle for movement.<p>

She never saw him come home. At one point, her head felt so tired and heavy that she succumbed to the weight of it, letting it fall to rest on her upturned knees where she slept fitfully, worriedly. She stirred only slightly when she felt she was being moved, but mostly she was dreaming of long days and nights alone, with only the daunting silence as company.

When she awoke the next morning in her own bed, Belle had to take a moment to straighten out her own thoughts. She knew she hadn't made it to her room, and now the vague memory of being moved made sense. _He_ had carried her to her bed. The thought sent the blood rushing to her face and little butterflies to her stomach. She hadn't even been wearing her robe; even if her nightgown was modest, she'd still be in a state of undress, making his gesture of kindness all the more intimate.

Noting it was almost light out and worried that she'd overslept, Belle then jumped up and hurried to dress, rushing down the stairs as she pinned her hair back. As soon as she reached the dining hall, she was mortified to find that Rumpelstiltskin was awake and spinning at the wheel. He'd built the fire and even had tea ready on the table. He stood when Belle came in apologizing. "I'm so sorry I overslept," she was shaking her head ashamedly. "I'm not normally so irresponsible-"

He stopped her by holding up his hand as he walked closer. "It's all right," he declared. "I'm not incapable of taking care of myself. Here," he picked up a cup and poured some of the steaming liquid into it, "have some tea, and give yourself time to wake up."

She accepted the tea - after noting that he knew exactly how she liked it with two cubes of sugar - and held it between her hands up to her nose to breathe in its warmth before taking a sip.

"Why were you in the library last night?"

Belle nearly choked on her tea but somehow managed to maintain control. "Oh, um," she cleared her throat to think. "The storm. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd read for a while. I guess it worked."

"Yes," he mumbled, an eyebrow raised.

Belle knew she should say something about his kindness, though it made her nervous to do so. "By the way, I assume you were the one to take me up to my room. Thank you for that."

"It was nothing," he fibbed, his voice light as he set down his own cup of tea to go back to his spinning.

In truth, when he'd found her with her upon arriving home, he thought she'd looked like an angel sitting there in the window, her cheek on her knees, looking out at the passing storm, her hair hanging in curls over her gown-covered legs… He'd come in quietly, believing that she was awake and possibly - and perhaps somewhat hopefully - waiting for him. He didn't know why the hope had been born, though, since he'd avoided returning home for hours, knowing she'd be there. Something was happening within him. The man who'd feared nothing for decades was becoming afraid of a simple woman who asked nothing of him. It was a first, an experience he'd never before known. And seeing her looking so frail and watching the front driveway for him stirred his hardened heart.

When he'd moved closer and discovered that she was asleep, he wasn't disappointed; he was entranced. For several minutes, he just sat on the seat by her feet and watched her, wondering what she was dreaming. Then she'd stirred, appearing to be uncomfortable in that position; he stood and didn't think twice about picking her up, the act coming to him instinctively. She folded against him like a child; her palm that came to rest on his chest burned like a hot coal, even through his clothing. He held her for a long time there, regretting having touched her. He should've just let her be. But now it was too late. She was in his arms, and he was enjoying it far more than he should for someone that was most likely just a tool to separate him from his powers.

For the first time in decades, he actually considered it, what it would be like to have the love of his Belle, though there was no guarantee that she would stay once his powers were gone. If it was true that she'd been coerced into seducing him for that purpose, once her mission was accomplished, she'd leave and he'd have no way to find her. She'd be gone, and he'd be powerless and alone. He just couldn't take that risk.

Carrying her to her room had seemed like the most natural thing to do. Setting her down in her bed, tucking her in between the sheets and blankets, he'd felt…different than ever before. He felt gentle and caring and kind. He felt human again.

_What if she didn't leave?_ a voice seemed to whisper as he watched her sleep with the help of the soft moonlight cascading through the windows. No, surely she would. Everyone he'd ever cared about had left. No one had ever loved him, and he was sure no one ever would. Even if it seemed that she was committed to holding up her end of the bargain to remain as his servant, he was certain it was only a matter of time before she'd leave him and never return.

And when that day came… He couldn't imagine the grief he would bear, the loneliness, or the heartache, knowing he'd never see her again. It would be a hundredfold what he'd felt when he discovered she'd been involved with the queen and her endgame. When Belle had taught him what it felt like to be loved and stripped it away with one casual statement about curses and kisses. Part of him wished they could go back to before, when he thought she was just a girl baring her heart and drawing his out, making it beat again. But it had all been a lie; he couldn't believe that any of it had been true. He couldn't let the queen beat him. He had to protect his power at all costs.

Still, there was one thing he knew for sure: his power had never made him feel as alive as that kiss.

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><p><em>Next update, Wednesday-ish<em>. _Let me know what you think of the story thus far! Comments and reviews are love! :)_

_Happy OUAT Day! :)  
><em>


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Squeaking in before the end of the day to keep my promise to update on Wednesday! I'm taking some artistic liberties with this chapter as far as the characters' backgrounds go, so just...go with it. :)

Also, I am a HUGE Beauty and the Beast fan, so I'm incorporating little tidbits from the various B&tB stories I've read in books or watched on TV or in movies into this story. Kudos to you if you pick up on those minor details, and mention them in your review if you do!

Thirdly, I've decided not to reply individually to each of your reviews unless you ask a question or are confused about something. It's just too stressful for me to keep up, and if/when I miss someone, I feel awful. Just know that I completely appreciate all of your kind words! I'm SO GLAD you guys like this story. :)

Okay, I'm going to stop talking now. As always, thank you, **TrueLove'sMiss**, for your excellent beta'ing! (Hopefully you like the changes and additions I made.)

Enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

Belle had gotten to work rather quickly after accepting his offer of tea, making sure to serve him his breakfast in short order and start on her daily chores. Rumpelstiltskin still had her on his mind even when she wasn't in the room. He kept spinning at the wheel, hoping its powers would work on him to remove her from his memory, but after several hours, she was still there, in every blink of his eye. Why did she have to be so enchanting?

Perhaps that was part of the queen's lure, making Belle irresistible. He had no idea how involved she'd been with the queen. No matter what, he had to be strong to withstand every temptation Belle brought his way.

Like her infectious smiles. Why did she do that? He'd never known anyone to smile so much who wasn't…plotting something. But ever since she'd arrived, smiles seemed to come naturally to her, born out of sheer happiness, though he couldn't understand that either, since she'd been practically his prisoner from the very start. But she smiled at his every lighthearted quip, every compliment, and even when she was proud of her own accomplishments. Sometimes he'd even hear her humming or whistling some lively tune while she worked. He'd hear it echoing through the castle, a lighthearted sound like a bird on the first spring morning.

Over time, he noticed she also seemed to offer more to him. Larger portions in his meals, extra trips to town if he needed straw, snacks accompanying his tea, even special desserts at the end of dinner. He considered that she might be trying to fatten him up to slow him down, but that would be a useless attempt. Even more disconcerting was that each gift was seemingly given with authentic generosity. She apparently just wanted to please him.

But it was her expressive eyes that he found hardest to resist. The way they'd sparkle when she laughed or glow by the light of the fire or be so focused on her tasks. Every now and then, he'd catch that longing in her gaze that he'd seen in that second before their kiss, but just as soon as he'd notice it, it would disappear. Only once did he manage to keep her from hiding it for a moment longer. She'd refilled the tea cup in his hands and met his eyes, when he recognized that longing and stopped her from moving away by cupping her cheek. Neither of them said anything while he studied her, and when he dropped his hand from her face, she blinked, and the longing was gone.

He studied her this way every moment they were in the same room, the way she moved, what items she touched or avoided, how delicately she would handle his things, and every glance and blush and duck of her head. She was almost…perfect. It was perplexing not finding an obvious ulterior motive. He would have to look deeper.

He formulated a plan as he sipped the tea Belle served him at the same time each afternoon, wandering over to the window to peer out at the bright summer day. She'd taken down those curtains during the first few months she'd been a servant in his home, and he never would've thought he'd enjoy it as much as he did. He'd had them up for so long that he thought he wouldn't welcome the light, but somehow, she'd made him change his mind. She was like that with everything, working hard to keep him satisfied and pleased and never in want for anything... Perhaps he could pretend to let his guard down the way he had then and see if she would slip up. He could even try complimenting her on her work, since she really was tackling everything with amazing tenacity. Even the windowpanes were perfectly clear and streak-free-

Movement outside drew his attention from the actual window to the outdoors. There was something - or rather, some_one_ - on his property. Someone just out of sight, hidden by the treetops. A woman. All he could see was the bottom of a gold skirt and boots. _Gold?_ The queen only ever wore black, so it wasn't likely to be her there, spying. But who could it be? He set his cup down on the windowsill and kept his eyes riveted until the figure followed the path where it curved out from under the tree line.

Belle. He recognized her brocade cape and swaying step. He relaxed a bit, watching as she followed the dirt path toward the woods, carrying a basket. Where was she going? Surely she knew not to go too far down that way, where the wolves-

He found that as he left the room, he was running.

When he got to the same place in the path where he'd first seen her, Rumpelstiltskin slowed, catching a glimpse of her not too deep into the woods, kneeling down. She wasn't as far away as he'd feared. She wasn't in danger nor trying to leave… What _was_ she doing? He couldn't tell, as she was turned slightly away from him, and with the hood draped on her head, even her face was blocked. He was puzzled, trying to figure out what she was up to, though not enough to make his presence known.

He ducked behind a tree and was glad he did when she turned his direction as if hearing a noise or sensing someone near. Her hair was braided today, he noticed when the hood slipped off the back of her head. Satisfied that she was alone, she went back to her task. He saw her lift something black to her lips and opened her mouth just enough to eat it. Surely she knew better than to eat anything unusual… Berries, he realized when she popped a second and third one into her mouth and ate them. Apparently she was enjoying them. For several minutes he just watched in amusement, until he discovered he was smiling. What was it about her that made him happy?

She gathered enough to fill her basket and stood up before he realized he'd be caught when she came back down the path. There would be no escaping once she turned- Thinking quickly, he stepped out and began walking toward her as if he was just out for a stroll, drawing near just as she pivoted to head back toward the house. "Oh. Belle," he greeted her surprised expression as he slowly meandered closer. "I didn't know you were out here," he fibbed.

"Yes, just gathering some blackberries for jam," she held out the basket as evidence. She couldn't recall a time she'd ever seen him outside. In the sunlight, his skin looked ghastly, thick, and shiny. In an instant, she felt a cloud of pity cover her heart and had to push it away. "Going for a walk?"

"Yes. Well, I was," he fumbled. "I just wanted a bit of fresh air. I've had enough now. Shall I escort you back?"

A smile tug at the corners of Belle's lips. Normally, she'd accept such an offer by taking the gentleman's arm as she'd been taught as a girl, but, recalling her own promise not to touch him, she just nodded and started toward the house, letting him fall into step beside her. When he'd touched her face the day before and held her cheek, looking into her eyes, Belle had felt weak in the knees, just waiting for something monumental to happen. But when he'd let her go, and things were unchanged, Belle had been disappointed enough to want to keep her distance, at least until some time had passed and things were easier.

For several moments, they walked together down the path in silence. "I…" he began, trying to think of what to talk about. Then he recalled his idea."I-I wanted to say that…you're doing a fine job…here."

"I'm glad you're pleased. I'd hoped to live up to my end of the bargain, especially since you are yours."

"Well, it's not much, really. Just a roof over your head."

"And a garden," she argued as they drew closer to it. "I've enjoyed that quite a bit. Come," she coerced with dancing eyes, taking a step ahead of him to lead the way, "see what I've done."

She led him through an arched opening in the brick- and ivy-covered walls to the garden and began to point things out. "I thought that since that side had mostly fruit trees and berry bushes, I'd plant vegetables over here," she pointed to each side of the large area devoted to crop-producing plants and trees. "I managed to find seeds for almost everything - squash, cabbage, carrots, potatoes - though I had to root those - beets, radishes-" she paused and spun around to ask, "Have you ever had a fresh radish?"

He shook his head once. "Don't believe I ever have."

"Oh, it's the best thing in the world," she grinned. "They're not quite ready; maybe by next week. When I was a child, my mother used to dig them up, clean the dirt off of them on her apron, and we would eat them right there in the garden. It was a treat for my older brothers and me for as long as I can remember."

Rumpelstiltskin's ears perked up at the new information. "You have brothers?"

Stunned by her own admission, Belle walked away a few steps. "I did," she revealed quietly. "Three of them," she added, squatting down to pull up a weed she'd found amongst the carrots.

Somehow he knew. "The wars?"

She nodded, keeping turned away. "As soon as they each turned fourteen. Father managed to keep me by pretending I was a servant and not one of his children. But each of my brothers went off to fight when it was their turn."

"And they never came back," he stated, knowing without asking that it had to be true by her saddened speech. "No wonder your father bargained with me to protect his three daughters."

Belle's head snapped up, and she studied him. "_That's_ how he knew of you," she realized in that moment. "I often wondered why my younger sisters weren't taken to fight like the other girls in our village." Her eyes narrowed. "What did he give you in return?"

Rumpelstiltskin didn't want to answer, to reveal all of his secrets, but considering she was his now, he imagined it wouldn't make any difference. "Let's just say that there was a certain young family who owed me something special and had chosen to hide out in your kingdom as commoners. Your father knew where they were so that I could collect their debt to me."

Belle absorbed this knowledge, unsure if she wanted to ask for more information. Deciding that the more she learned, the more disappointed she might become, she let it go. Getting to her feet, she meandered over to the section of flowers just beyond a hedge separating the two gardens.

Rumpelstiltskin followed, just out of curiosity. The last time he'd spent any time on the grounds, the gardens had been overgrown and full of weeds. Belle had certainly done a lot of work in the time she'd been there. Now the garden was flourishing and full of life; he compared it to the way he felt when she'd first come to the Dark Castle, making it bloom into feeling like a real home with her warmth and vitality and contagious smile.

While he was lost in thought, she pruned and weeded and checked the leaves for spots or bugs, spending more than a few minutes by the rose bushes. Her cheeks nearly glowed next to each bud she'd lift to smell its scent, and he wondered what she was thinking about. Her family, he imagined, given the conversation they'd just had. He knew what that was like.

"What happened to your sisters?" he thought to ask.

"They married men of good standing and started their families."

"And yet, you didn't."

She shook her head. "I didn't want to marry without love. I'd put Gaston off for years with the excuse that my father needed me, since I was the last of his children at home." She took a breath and let it out. "Papa had already lost so much; even his _own_ family was killed in the wars."

Rumpelstiltskin was puzzled. "But you…you chose to leave with me."

"That was different." She moved on to the next bush. "He was bound to lose me to marriage sooner rather than later. Gaston and I were to be married in a month. I was instructed not to back out of it, and if I hadn't left with you, Papa would've lost our home, the village, and everything, more than just me. We couldn't let the wars take everything."

"Yes," he mumbled, thinking of his own losses. "My son was taken off to war, too," he found his voice uttering, though he would've kept his mouth shut had he had any control around her. It seemed he was losing less and less of it each day spent with her. Hearing his voice, Belle turned so that she could see his face, and she had so much compassion in her eyes from his confession, it gripped his heart. He wasn't sure why he'd let that information slip, but now that it was out, he felt surprisingly comfortable with it. Why, he wasn't sure.

"That's what happened to him," she whispered, taking a moment to be quiet as if honoring the boy's memory. "What was his name?"

"Baelfire." He blinked back tears, trying to smile them away.

"Baelfire," she repeated, letting the name roll of her tongue. "And you haven't seen him since?"

He shook his head. "He's dead now." He clicked his tongue and kicked at a rock buried in the dirt at his feet. "Even if he wasn't, I am dead to him." Pacing away a few steps to toy with a blossom on a nearby tree, he confessed, "All I was trying to do was protect him from having to fight, and my choice drove him away."

Judging by the sound of her voice, Belle had moved to stand several feet behind him. "Your power?" she correctly assumed.

"The best thing to ever happen to me," he said, though it wasn't clear if he was being serious, sarcastic, or regretful.

Belle inwardly hoped it was the latter, and asked, "And yet, you wanted to hold onto it?"

He pivoted to face her again, all traces of depression gone from his face. "Of course," he proclaimed with a wave of his hand. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have all this," he gestured to the grounds and the castle behind him.

Belle managed a small but sad smile and went back to the roses, using a curved knife she had in her apron pocket to cut one stem beneath a blooming bud. She held it to her nose and drank in its scent for a long moment. "I should think it better to have the ones you love than any great power or fortune," she declared, staring into the red of the petals. "One can find contentment anywhere as long as there is love."

"And, are you content here, dearie?" he asked before he was sure if he wanted to have the answer.

"Yes," she answered easily. She continued to clutch the rose and stare at it, fingering its velvet petals. "It was love for my father that made me choose to come here. I can forever make that sacrifice for him and what's left of my family and friends because I love them."

Rumpelstiltskin was a little deflated that she hadn't included him in her speech, but what did he expect? He'd been offered her love, only to reject it for his power instead. Love was not a thing they would share as long as he wasn't willing to give up what he'd thought was more important to him. And until the queen was no longer plotting against him, he couldn't let his power go.

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><p><em>This one was a little short, and I'm doing pretty good at writing ahead, so, the next update will be...Friday!<br>_

_Reviews are love! _:D


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry, you guys! I posted this last night (if you've subscribed, I know you got e-mails), but it didn't work right, and I was too tired to stay up and make sure it did. That just figures, I suppose, as my beta, **TrueLove'sMiss**, and I think this is the best chapter yet! Hopefully, that makes up for the site screwing up the posting, lol.

**Disclaimer:** The two conversations borrowed from "Skin Deep" are not mine. I just like how it fit into the story. :)

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4:<strong>

Throughout the rest of the summer and fall, Rumpelstiltskin found himself wandering more and more out into the garden while Belle was there, sometimes watching her tend to it, other times being an extra hand when she needed it. Most afternoons were spent in the quiet, just enjoying the stillness of the air and the warmth of the sunshine. But sometimes, they'd have deep discussions of life and its hardships, of family and friends, and of hope for the future. Belle didn't learn as much about Rumpelstiltskin as he did about her; he kept most of his life guarded and secret, only revealing little tidbits of information about himself when he felt comfortable doing so. Belle didn't seem to mind this fact; she appeared to take what she could get from him and didn't push for anything more.

By the time winter arrived and snow lingered in thick drifts on the ground, going outside was less of an enjoyable activity. But every day that was pleasant enough, Belle would still venture out for a short time, just for some fresh air, and occasionally, he'd accompany her. One day, they were in the flower section of the garden, with Belle tending and checking on the rose bushes and other plants that were cut back for the season, when she saw a little bird land on the frozen-over birdbath. "Oh, hello, friend," she cooed, reaching under her cape to put her hand in her pocket. She'd noticed a few weeks before that the birds were searching for food, and she'd taken to bringing a handful of seeds with her whenever she returned to the garden for just such occasions. This particular bird seemed to be the same one she'd seen since that first day, and he always returned, looking for his handout.

Belle had been working on this bird's approach, getting him closer and closer each day. She'd finally managed to earn his trust a few days before, letting him eat out of her hand, and she did that again now.

Behind her on his seat on the bench, Rumpelstiltskin chuckled quietly at the scene. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and the little bird flitted from her hand to the frozen water on the bath and back again, nervously twittering at every slight movement or sound. The imp had not been home for a few days, so he hadn't seen this advancement. "You got him to trust you," he said, hearing a deeper meaning in his own words, recalling just how easily he'd learned to trust her since the first day she came home with him.

"It didn't take much," Belle proclaimed with a shrug. "Just hold still, be patient, and they learn that we're not out to hurt them."

He wondered if that was her plan with him as well. Was she really all that innocent? "Is that what you're setting out to accomplish here with me, Belle?" he spontaneously decided to ask.

Given that she was just talking about the birds, Belle looked up at him, confused. But when she saw the expression on his face and the suspicious look in his eyes, she knew what he'd meant. "No," she vowed with a shake of her head as she continued to watch her feathered friends. "I mean, yes, I wish you _would_ trust me. But…I am merely trying to keep my promise to you."

"Which promise?" he asked pointedly.

She moved a bit from her spot by the birdbath, just to move and keep her limbs warm in the cold air. "To work as your servant. To uphold the deal you made with my father."

"But, what of your own dreams? Your own future?"

Turning back to pace the same ground she'd covered in front of his seat on the lone bench in the garden, she answered with a half-shrug, "I haven't completely given up hope on some of my dreams. I'd like to have what my sisters have - love, and a real home, and a family-"

"But," he interrupted, "you gave all that up to come here."

She stopped walking and looked up at him with a softened expression, quietly replying, "Who said I did?"

His heart had jumped alive again in that moment, and it produced many days of thought. If she was only a pawn sent to rid him of his powers, she certainly had more patience than he would've guessed. Would she really hold out for a lifetime to complete her quest? How could someone give up their own dreams to achieve such a goal for someone else, without any gain of her own? It made him wonder what the queen had promised her in return. _No one _was so unselfish to give up their lives without some sort of reward in the end. Funny thing was, he couldn't imagine Belle being that kind of devious person. Not like the queen. He had to figure out Belle's true motives before it was too late and he was willing to give up everything for her.

He'd taken to drinking more of his favorite liquor that night. When he wasn't working on a deal, he drank. Sometimes, he'd even start before he came home, emptying his little hip flask before his return trip. Then he'd hit the bottle as soon as he arrived home. Each time, he drank enough to intoxicate regular men, but with his power, it simply lessened his inhibitions.

One night, Belle chose the wrong time to come through the dining hall to prepare the fire to last through to morning, while he was slinking down in his chair, inebriated, just waiting for the evening to be over. By this time, she was used to him watching in silence, and she simply went about her tasks without giving him much notice. But he couldn't let her leave without finding out, without knowing the _truth _of her loyalties.

"When did you first meet the queen?" he boldly asked, stopping her from leaving the room.

She walked slowly back from the doors to stand by him, narrowing her eyes curiously. "When you sent me for straw. Her carriage was passing, and she stopped."

He studied her face for deception. "You'd never seen her before?"

"No," she stated evenly and honestly. When his staring became almost unbearable, Belle dropped her gaze and angrily sighed. "And if I'd known who she was and what she was after, I would've run from her. She tricked me. She made me lose you."

Rumpelstiltskin sat up straight and leaned closer. "That," he pointed to her face with one finger, "has to be the lie."

"But it isn't," she implored. "You _must_ believe me. I thought there was no hope to save you from this curse, and she gave it to me. I just didn't know that hidden behind her help was a selfish motive. I thought you hated your curse and would want to be free from it. I only wanted to help you."

He stood and peered narrowly through the windows of her soul. "Why?"

His question could've been easily answered, but she couldn't bear to say the words. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her hands and pleaded for him to understand by saying, "I think you know, but you don't want to believe it's possible. If you just let go of your past hurts and let me in, you'll see that it's real. If you could just let go of your power-"

"That will never happen," he declared with a sober expression, ignoring the fact that his surety was weakening with each passing day.

Belle accepted this information with grace. "Then all you'll be left with is an empty heart." She glanced down at the table that held what was left of his favorite tea set on its silver tray, cleaned and ready for the morrow, when she would fill the teapot with fresh leaves and hot water. Then she met his eyes again, adding metaphorically, "And a chipped cup."

She left the room then, leaving him with that food for thought. Perhaps she'd been too harsh with him, but he needed to hear the truth. She would stick to her end of the bargain and would stay with him forever, but they would be missing out on the closeness they _could_ have. And that would make for a long and lonely life, for both of them.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't join her in the garden for nearly a week starting the next day, and he did his best to avoid her altogether. He even left for a couple of days to attend to some poor soul in need of his power, but felt drawn back to the Dark Castle sooner than he would've thought.

Belle was right in a sense - his heart was empty. But he wasn't completely unfeeling. Her words had brought out emotions in himself he hadn't felt for so long, they were nearly erased from his memory. Words he'd heard people call him, like "coward" and "weak" trickled back into his mind as though they'd always been there, waiting for his guard to come down. The hateful expression of the woman he'd called his wife for a brief time seem to sneer at him across time, as though he'd just seen her a day before, instead of the decades it had been. All those reasons he'd cherished his power were haunting him now, instead of staying buried in his human past.

No one had ever cared about him in his life. Even his own mother used the back-side of her hand on him more than anything else. She didn't comfort him when he was hurt, nor encourage him in any way. He was the eldest of five children, but to her, he was the lowliest, often used as an example of the beatings the others would get if they messed up like him. By the time he was fourteen, he was glad to leave to fight in the wars. But he hadn't been prepared for the blood and death and disease. He nearly lost his own leg when a deep gash from one battle became infected. The leg was supposed to be amputated, but Rumpelstiltskin had fled, making it home on his own willpower. His mother had kicked him out the moment she saw that infection, afraid he would infect the others.

Somehow he managed to live through the ordeal, using a stick to walk when it was clear he'd never be fully healed. He knew he was expected to go back to the fighting, but he hid instead. And when he met Charlotte, and she seemed interested in him, he'd thought his life was finally turning around. A few months later, she confided in him that she was pregnant, and they were very quickly wed. Baelfire was born, but Rumpelstiltskin was discovered and taken back to fight. After only six months more of it, with his leg causing him more trouble than the fighting was worth, desertion became his only option.

Charlotte was not happy to see him return, but she was also sick of motherhood. In just a few days' time, she left him with the baby, practically throwing the child at him, calling him weak in the same breath as she complained of all her struggles that she couldn't handle. But he didn't care when he saw that helpless child's face, recalling his own painful childhood. He determined then and there that Baelfire's life would be easier than his had been. And until that fateful day he'd taken on his power, Bae had loved and respected his father. That first time his son had stepped away from him instead of accepting his new authority had been painful, but he'd found his confidence in that curse and wasn't willing to let it go. If Bae couldn't accept him with it, then he'd live without him. He just hadn't known at the time how important being loved really was until Belle reminded him. Now the struggle to learn to live without it would begin anew, if he wanted everything to remain the same.

But, did he? The thought of having someone like Belle loving him had frightened him. From the first moment she'd smiled at him, until her kiss, every step of their romance had been a dream. Everything was beautiful when she loved him. The way she moved, each time she drew closer or touched him, it had all been a new experience, and he'd never been blessed with it before. It scared him, and yet, knowing it was available right there in his own home if he wanted it, he felt drawn back sooner. Even he wasn't yet ready to accept it or completely trust her, he couldn't help himself from wanting to be there with her.

But his homecoming wasn't as welcome as he thought it would be. Belle barely spoke two words to him, and he supposed she was still upset about their last conversation, when he made it clear that he wasn't going to be giving up his power anytime soon. And that was fine with him, he decided, since he still wasn't sure about her loyalties.

He got his answer the day the queen came to visit his castle, unannounced and unwelcome, when everything changed when he was least expecting it.

He was spinning at the wheel when the queen breezed through the doors, using her own powers of manipulation instead of his to control them. "Flimsy locks," she claimed with all the air of her previous station, chuckling. She didn't bother with the formalities of a greeting, or show any kind of remorse for her bursting into his home; instead, she got right down to business. "I have a deal to discuss. A certain…mermaid."

Rumpelstiltskin was seething with anger already at just the sight of her, but coming in and pretending that things were the way they once were burned him up. He stood up and faced her as she eyed his tea tray on the table, somehow controlling his own rage. "I'm not dealing today," he said through clenched teeth.

"Are you angry with me? What is it this time?" She poured herself a cup of the tea.

"Your little deception failed," he grinned, thankful that she could not control him. "You'll never be more powerful than me. You can keep trying, dearie. You're never going to be beat me."

"Oh," she quipped, unaffected by his confidence. She then faced him and bent at the waist to mock, "Is this about that girl I met on the road? Hmm?" She then smirked.

"Get out."

Impassive to his demand, she put a cube of sugar into her cup and stirred it. "Ooo, touchy," she commented, lifting the cup to her lips. "Whatever happened to her?" she asked, though he was sure she probably knew. "Did she…" she nearly failed at holding back her chuckle, "kiss you?" The anger on his face answered her question. "Oh, she tried, didn't she? Convinced you that it was true love? How did you figure out that she was just after taking away your power?"

"That wasn't _her _goal; it was yours, wasn't it?" He wasn't actually asking; somehow he'd convinced himself in that moment that he _knew_ this to be true.

"Oh, Rumpel," she chided, as if talking to a young child. "Must we always have this rivalry between us? Why can't we just get along?" She set down her cup on the table and approached him by a few steps. "Just imagine the power and control we could have if we worked together." An evil smile played at her lips. "We could rule the world."

"Leave. Now," he spoke so forcefully that he was surprised that he didn't move from his spot. With the rage he was feeling, he could so easily spring forward and wring her long, thin neck between his fingers without a second thought. He knew that would be fruitless, though, since she'd see him coming and would retaliate. And then the real battle would begin.

"Fine," she said lightly, not a hint of fear in her voice. She turned and started for the door. "I have other calls to make."

The doors opened with her exit, and Rumpelstiltskin saw Belle just coming into the room, carrying his dinner tray. But when she saw the queen, Belle's face went ashen, and she dropped the tray, the dishes crashing loudly to the floor. She held her ground, pretending to be unafraid, but he could tell that she was burning with a similar kind of fury he felt. "What are _you_ doing here?" Belle asked, visibly fuming with anger.

Regina ignored her question and spoke over her shoulder at the imp. "I'm impressed, Rumpel. You're keeping the temptation so close. I thought you would've had her thrown to the wolves by now."

"She's not a temptation; I told you that your little plan failed. I made a deal with her father for her, and I'm keeping that deal. That's all there is to it."

"Still," she waved her hand. "I'm surprised." She walked out of the door and paused at Belle's side, tapping her under her jaw. "Chin up, dear. You still have a chance to win him over with True Love's Kiss." She tossed a challenging glance at Rumpelstiltskin. "And then you can have the man you love."

Belle stood stiff, her fists clenched at her sides. "I can guarantee you I will never do _anything_ that will bring you joy. You've tricked me for the last time."

"Hm, you're stronger than I would've thought. But no matter," she cast a parting glance at her enemy, "I'll hold out hope that I'll get what I want in the end."

Since Belle was standing in the doorway, the doors remained open as the queen walked out and toward the castle's exit. Rumpelstiltskin moved to stand beside Belle to ask her why she was really angry, once Regina was gone, and the two watched until she was out of sight. Then, surprisingly, before he could speak, the girl's knees buckled underneath her, and she collapsed. He caught her and held her against him, merely out of instinct.

"You're trembling," he noted, as her whole body seemed to shiver uncontrollably against him.

"I don't like her," Belle replied against the coolness of his leather vest. "Why was she here?"

"Trying to make a deal. She does that occasionally."

"Did it have anything to do with me?"

"No, dear," he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair, but not allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to actually kiss her.

"Good," Belle sniffed. Within a few seconds, she regained her strength enough to stand up again. Taking a step away, wiping away an errant tear, she knelt to start cleaning up the mess she'd made. His dinner plate had broken in pieces and the food and drink was spilled over the tray. Picking it all up, she stood and gestured toward the kitchen with her head. "I'll be back in a few minutes with your dinner."

He was still in a state of shock at how quickly she'd recovered. "Yes," was all he could seem to say. He watched her walk away nearly emotionless, yet…he'd seen that tear.

Going back into the dining hall (with the doors closing silently behind him), he sat back down on his stool as if by rote, picking up the straw and slowly turning the wheel, all the while thinking about Belle's conversation with the queen.

Since her kiss and ultimate betrayal, he'd believed it possible that Belle was acting as one of Regina's tools to rid him of his powers. That she was in league with the queen. That she was happy about it. That she wanted to take away his power so that the queen would have free reign.

_But she was as furious as you were at just the sight of the witch, _his mind batted back_._

Judging by her anger, it seemed likely that Belle _wasn't_ all that happy about Regina's goal to overthrow him. She'd trembled and faltered once Regina was gone. She'd allowed him to hold her in his arms. She'd felt so warm and soft…

He closed his eyes, reveling in the memory of that brief moment.

"_This means it's true love!" _her voice echoed in his ear.

_No_, he thought purposefully as he opened his eyes again, _it hadn't been real._

A voice inside seemed to argue, _She hasn't tried to kiss you since then._

That did seem odd, if she had the endgame to reduce him to a mere mortal. It would seem more likely that she'd try again and again to succeed. But she'd faithfully kept her distance. Even now, while in the intimate position of being in each other's arms, she'd been the first to pull away from him and get back to her work.

_Maybe she's just extremely patient, _he reasoned with himself.

It was possible that someone could wait months or years to enact their evil plan, all the while building up to their intended goal, taking out their enemy when their guard was down. Sirens lived by this very principle, and thousands of men had lost their lives to them. Regina was certainly capable of such vile hate to be patient. But Belle seemed so innocent… What could be her motive? He had this and a couple more questions that needed answering before he could truly believe that she was as innocent as she appeared to be.

She came in with a clean tray and a fresh plate and mead, and set the meal at his place at the table and stood back to wait for him to take his seat. But he wasn't interested in eating at the moment. "Belle," he spoke softly, standing in front of her. "You seemed…surprised to see the queen."

Belle bowed her head to declare, "I wasn't expecting her. How often does she come to you to make deals?"

He shrugged. "Every year or so."

She looked up at him. "Then, we shouldn't see her again for another year?"

He thought back to the encounter. "If at all," Rumpelstiltskin mumbled. "She is not welcome here. I'll take measures to make sure she does not return."

Belle seemed to relax a bit after a shaky sigh. "Good."

"Uh," he turned to pace away a few steps, "I have to ask again…when you left that day for town-"

"When I met her on the road?"

"Yes," he nodded once. He paused a few feet away and turned to face her, mustering up the courage to know, "Why did you come back?"

Belle was quiet for a moment as she thought about her answer. "I wasn't going to," she repeated her reply from that day that seemed so long ago. "I was going to go home."

"Until you met the queen," he assumed and she nodded.

"She was so nice to me, but I sensed something was…not right with her. I wanted us to part ways, but…then she started talking to me about curses and how a kiss born out of true love would cure it. I'd never heard that before."

"And you thought I didn't like my… 'curse.'"

She smiled sadly. "You seemed miserable and lonely to me. I thought you would welcome the chance to be a man again."

"Hm," he muttered, studying her for deception and finding none. "So, you came back to try… Did you think it would work?"

"I hoped it would. I knew that I-" she stopped abruptly before saying the word, deciding to drop her gaze and use a different one instead, "cared for you."

Moving closer, he peered at her long and hard before leaning in so close that he could tell she smelled of fire smoke and flowers. Belle froze, watching him with wide eyes, but he had to test her, to know. "Do you want to kiss me again?" he asked so softly that it was almost reverent.

"Yes," she breathed, her heart beating hard and fast with her gaze locked with his. The moment was so intense, she thought for sure he'd lean in and kiss her, just the way she hoped. But she came to her senses and closed her eyes to keep her wits. "But I don't want to be responsible for taking away your power if that's not something you want." To prove her point, she stepped back from him to a more comfortable distance, but remained in the room in case he had any more to say.

He didn't, though his gaze did linger on her as he walked over to the table and sat down. Belle followed and mutely lifted the lid off his plate, waited for his approval of the meal, and took a step away to leave when she felt him grab her hand. Her heart still pounding from his nearness earlier, she fussed, "Rumpelstiltskin, please."

His eyebrows furrowed, awaiting an explanation for her sudden outburst.

Belle couldn't meet his eyes, closing hers again instead. "Please stop touching me. It's difficult enough keeping my distance from you every day without you holding my hand."

Something in her voice made him believe that she really _did_ want him to touch her, and that's where the struggle lay. Still, he respected her request and let her go. "As you wish. I merely wanted to ask if you'd like to go home. I could make another deal with your father to return you-"

"Oh, no, please don't," she pleaded. "I don't want Papa to suffer any more. I'll be fine here. I'm sure it will get easier…"

He nodded to dismiss her, and Belle bowed her head like a doting servant before she left the room. He no longer believed she was working for the queen. But where did that leave them now?

As servant and master, he supposed, although…that idea didn't sit well with him anymore at all.

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><p><em>I'm hashing out the details of chapter 7<em>, _but I think I can update with chapter 5 Sunday night, a little something for you to read after the next ep. :)_ _Reviews might help to nudge me along! Thanks for reading!  
><em>


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** *sheepishly reappears* Hi everyone! You all have my sincerest apologies for not posting this Sunday night as promised, but I swear I have good reason. This story is getting more and more complex as the days go on. I'm trying to make it last a good, long while, and getting all the details right has become my obsession. I didn't want to post this one until I knew for sure I wasn't going to add or change anything, but now...I think it's okay. And even if it turns out not to be, I'll make it work. :)

I've thrown in a little B&tB reference (Disney's version) that I noticed also in "Skin Deep," so hopefully you'll catch it and enjoy. ;)

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><p><strong>Chapter 5:<strong>

Figuring out that Belle hadn't been working for the queen didn't really help to quiet Rumpelstiltskin's fears. In truth, the knowledge only brought on more questions. If she wasn't trying to take away his power, then why did she seem to like him so much? Why did she care? If she wanted him to be a man, why didn't she keep trying to kiss him? She'd backed off that last time she'd be given the opportunity, and he'd made sure to tempt her by leaning in close. It didn't make any sense, unless… His whole frame seemed to quiver at the idea that her feelings for him might be real.

If that was true, he would have to believe that every look, every act of thoughtfulness, and every special attention shown to him was from her heart. It scared him to think that she was genuine, that it could be possible she truly did care for him. He was certain that if he let her into his heart and allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, she'd eventually hurt him. He recalled how painful it had been when Charlotte would see him stumble and would laugh or ridicule him, the names she used to call him, the harsh criticism of his lack of abilities, the words she'd spoken when she left him - all of it had broken him. He couldn't let Belle do him the same kind of harm, ever. And even if she wasn't as mean as Charlotte had been, he was still sure that she'd eventually leave him and he'd be broken-hearted simply by her absence.

However, there were moments when he'd let himself dream what it might be like to have her love be sincere, to spend a lifetime with her. Those moments were few, and he didn't linger on them for too long. But they were there, waiting for the next time he let his heart wander.

His interactions with Belle since discovering her loyalties weren't in league with the queen were different - softer, kinder - but he was still guarded. The first time she announced she was going to town after this change in their relationship, he'd stood up from his stool in fear. Would she come back this time?

"You would like more straw, would you not?" she asked in confusion when he questioned if she really needed to go.

He glanced at the basket that was nearly empty. "Uh…yes," he muttered disappointedly. He really hated to be without a full supply. "But, you don't have to go if that's the only thing we need."

"Oh, it isn't," she declared. "I'm in need of a few other things. And I have a few more things to sell." She held out a basket with several loaves of bread and some other baked goods.

He tried a different tactic. "It is too cold to walk."

Belle eyed him curiously. "I'll manage."

"Take the carriage."

"We have a carriage?"

His heart skipped a beat when he heard her refer to something of his as "theirs." "Yes," he spoke slowly. "It's rarely used, but that is why I have the horses."

When she'd first come to the Dark Castle, they'd ridden together in one of her father's carriages, which the driver had taken back to her village after dropping the two of them off. That was when she'd first discovered that Rumpelstiltskin didn't need to use the conventional methods of travel, since he'd arrived at her father's home without a mode of transportation that Belle recognized. She'd often been curious as to why he didn't have her travel the same way with him, supernaturally, but she'd never been interested enough to ask.

He walked with her to the stables, as Belle pondered the fact that she'd never seen him use his horses. He had no other livestock or servants, and Belle hadn't understood why the horses didn't need more care. She'd asked about them the first day she'd seen them in their pasture, but Rumpelstiltskin had insisted that they were well taken care of all year long. She imagined it had something to do with his power, as the animals did seem healthy and ready to work whenever she'd pass them by. She'd thought they might be good riding horses, too, should she ever have the nerve to ask if she could ride sometime. "Um," she shrugged a shoulder when she saw for the first time the carriage in its parked spot in the stable. "What about a driver?"

"That's easy enough," he proclaimed, looking around until he found a frog near a ditch outside. He snapped his fingers and, in an instant, a man stood in the frog's place, dressed like the proper servant. "Take Miss Belle to town," Rumpelstiltskin told him, and the frog-turned-driver bowed obediently, immediately going to work to hook the horses up to their harnesses and the carriage.

She shook her head in amazement. "Thank you," she told her master.

He wanted to ask her if she was going to come back, but fear kept his lips sealed. He simply nodded, and after an awkward moment, he turned to go back into the house.

Belle watched him go, noticing a slight slump to his shoulders, as if he was…worried. With a power like his, though, it didn't make sense for him to be anxious about anything. It seemed that someone who could create a man from a frog could stop anyone from doing whatever made him uneasy.

She thought about it all the way to town, the change in his demeanor, the gentleness in his voice, the worry… It had all been different since the queen's visit, and perhaps he now believed the truth that she wasn't trying to take away his power. Maybe he could learn that she could be trusted. Returning to his castle the way she'd planned would be a good start, she hoped.

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><p>Rumpelstiltskin went back to his dining hall, but after several hours at his spinning wheel, he began to get nervous. He got up and went to the mirror, carefully tugging off its cover. He didn't use this power often, since it gave an open window to the queen into his life, but she had to live with the same fear, as he could see into her world the same way. Now that Belle was out on her own and he knew she wouldn't come back to try to relieve him of his power, he feared that she wouldn't return at all.<p>

"Show me Belle," he commanded, and the mirror clouded for a moment before clearing and revealing Belle sitting at a table in a tavern with a drink. He recognized the room as a place between his estate and town, proof that she wasn't running from him. Not yet.

She was carefully twirling her mug in her hands, deep in thought, and he wondered what - or _who_ - she was thinking about. He stared wistfully at her beautiful face, somewhat hopefully wishing she might be thinking of him and believing it to be impossible. What incentive did she even have for returning to the Dark Castle?

His attention was drawn back to the scene in the tavern when a stranger approached her and started talking to her. Rumpelstiltskin recognized the bloke as a pushy, demanding sort of fellow who'd once asked him for a potion to make some woman fall in love with him. Even if it hadn't been the one aspect of life Rumpelstiltskin couldn't control, he doubted he would've given this swine what he'd asked for. And now, seeing him with Belle made his blood boil. He watched as two more men joined the first in harassing her, but the final straw was hearing one of the men say that the queen had mentioned "what fun" Belle would be. _Regina_, he inwardly cursed. She'd stop at nothing to hurt him, still using Belle as an instrument of that pain. He would have to make her believe he had no feelings for Belle at all to get her to stop.

Belle had been handling the forceful man with all the strength she'd learned from her older brothers as a child, but when his friends joined him in taunting her and wouldn't allow her to leave the building, Belle worried that this was one scrape she might not be able to get out of. She kicked and fought against them, managing to push past them just long enough to hurry outside, but she couldn't escape before she was caught and dragged to the side of the building. She continued to fight but the three men were far too much for her to handle.

One man had grabbed her wrist and pulled her back; another pushed her against a tree and was leaning into her suggestively, his hot breath on the skin of her face and neck. Belle whimpered when she found she didn't have control of either of her hands and no way to get out of their grip, all of them taunting and laughing at her instead of helping her or letting her go.

She closed her eyes, willing the situation to be a nightmare, begging the gods to get her out of there unharmed. Suddenly, she was freed, and when she opened her eyes, it was Rumpelstiltskin standing in front of her with three rats dangling by their tails in his fingers. His eyes were nearly flaming frightfully as he stared at the rats, proclaiming that those brutes wouldn't hurt her again, but when he dropped the rodents and looked at her, his gaze was softened.

Belle gasped and shook in relief, and immediately, began to sob as she crumpled to the ground against the tree. Without hesitation, Rumpelstiltskin moved closer and lifted her back to her feet, wasting no time in leading her to their carriage around the corner. "Take us home," he told the frog-man, who nodded, opened the door to the carriage to let them in, and then jumped into his seat to lead the horses away from the tavern.

Rumpelstiltskin sat beside Belle as she continued to cry and lean into him, gripping the front of his coat in her fist. He tried shushing her, but it was useless. She would just have to cry it out, and he held her while she satisfied that need.

After several minutes of trembling and sobbing, she breathlessly voiced, "How did you know? How did you find me?"

"I have ways," he said guardedly, still holding her against him.

"I don't know what they would've done-"

"I do," he mumbled, knowing just the type.

She sniffed and shook with a sob. "One of them said something about the queen."

"I know," he whispered. "She was behind this, too. I won't let her hurt you again."

She nodded her head against his neck, and then shakily lifted her face to his. "You saved me."

For the first time since their last kiss, he _wanted_ to kiss her full lips, to comfort and love her and feel her love returned. But worry and fear still plagued him that once he gave into this so called love, he'd not only lose his power, but Belle as well. As soon as she saw the coward that was left, she might run the other direction.

Since he hesitated, Belle buried her face into his neck and kissed him there, merely out of gratefulness. But she hadn't thought through how that would feel. And it had felt so good to show her feelings for him that she pulled back an inch and kissed him again and again, moving each time to find a different spot until she was closing in on his ear and jaw and cheek.

It was all he could do to maintain his control around her, but with her kissing him in ways that sent chills down his spine and to other parts of his body he'd severely neglected, he had to put a stop to it. "Belle," he whispered, pushing her back enough to see that her eyes were wide and dreamy and confused, all at the same time. "That's enough," he said, though his heart was screaming otherwise.

Belle, too, knew the moment she saw the fear in his gaze that she was coming dangerously close to loving his power right away from him. "Yes," she closed her eyes and sat up on her own strength before staring down at her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry."

They sat silent, side-by-side, all the way back to the Dark Castle, neither of them moving or saying anything. When the carriage stopped, Rumpelstiltskin got out and held out his hand for her. Belle purposely didn't take his hand, vowing that she could manage on her own. He stepped back and let her get down out of the carriage and watched as she headed for the house, carrying the basket of things she'd purchased in town. He turned to the driver. "Take care of the team, and then you may go back to your ditch." It was his way of ending the spell on the frog, and the man smiled and nodded, obviously happy with that command.

Belle was in her bedchamber, crying; he could hear her muffled sobs through the door and imagined that she was curled up on top of the covers, hugging a pillow. Her basket of goods was sitting on the table in the dining hall, untouched, which meant that she'd dropped them and gone straight to her room. Saddened by her depression, he took the supply of straw to its basket, and went back to his spinning wheel.

He was surprised when the doors opened a few hours later, and Belle came into the room with his dinner tray. She didn't speak a word as she sat it on the table and waited for him with a bowed head to come to sit in his place. He did as expected, and she lifted the lid, all the while not even looking his direction. "Belle," he said, reaching out to touch her arm before she could walk away. But he retracted it just as quickly when he saw and heard her quiet gasp, almost as if it had physically hurt her to feel his touch. "I'm sorry."

She knew his apology was to cover much more than just his thoughtless touch, and she closed her eyes to hide the pain. "You can't love me because of your power, and you need that to fight the queen," she whispered. "I know that now."

He stood up, which repelled her like matching poles of two magnets to move further away, keeping turned toward him. "The problem is that you don't know what it is you think you love."

He took that moment to close his eyes to focus and transform the way his predecessor had, making himself look like his old human self. He'd never used this power, as he'd had no desire to be human again, like Zoso had in order to pass off the power to someone else, but now, he found it useful, to prove to Belle that she couldn't love him if he was merely human.

His plan backfired when Belle's face lit up and her mouth dropped open in delighted surprise. "Rumpel-" It was mere shock that kept her from finishing his name. "You're…a man."

"Only to show you what I would be without my power." He took a few labored steps away, proving that his limp was back from his former life. "I'm an old man."

"No," she softly argued, following him to keep him just a few feet away. "Age doesn't matter to me."

"Ah, but there's more," he tried again. "Before I had my power, I was known across the countryside as a turned coward-"

"I don't care-"

He felt the anger building inside him. "I'm weak-"

She was shaking her head. "You're the man I love!"

"That's not possible!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Stop lying!"

"I'm not!" she cried. "It's true!"

He picked up the closest thing he had - a clock - and threw it to the ground, shattering it to pieces. "How could you love me?" he yelled at the top of his voice. He knocked the candelabra that sat beside it to the ground as well, but it wasn't enough to vent his frustration. He tried to move closer to another stand that held a few more things he could throw, but his forgotten wound hindered him, and he stumbled and fell. "Look at me! I'm not even _half_ a man!" he yelled, still so sure that he couldn't possibly be loved.

Belle rushed to his side and knelt down to gather him in her arms and argue, but he shoved her back, knocking her onto the floor. She sat back, stunned for a long moment.

"I don't need your help!" he loudly complained. "I don't need anyone! That's why I have my power." He quickly transformed back to his impish self and smiled as he stood up, strong and tall to prove his point. "I don't need anything. Not even you."

Belle was stung by his words and stood up to leave the room, stopping a few feet away when she realized she couldn't walk away and let him win with his stubbornness. She'd learned in her year's time there that he pushed her away more when he was close to being vulnerable, and it was just his fears keeping him from allowing his love for her to come to the surface. "You know, I don't care if you think you don't need me. I'm going to stay with you. I can't stop how I feel about you, and I don't want to leave you.

"When you finally realize that my feelings are true, I'll still be here. When you decide that your power isn't enough, I'll be here. I want to love you, Rumpelstiltskin, but until you let go of your power, you won't be free. So, when you figure out a way to win your fight against the queen and get her out of the way so that you don't need your power anymore, I'll be here, waiting."

She stormed out of the room and left him then, pondering her words. And they played over like a recording in his mind:

_I'm going to stay with you. _

_I don't want to leave you. _

_I'll still be here. _

_I want to love you._

_Until you let go of your power, you won't be free._

_When you figure out a way to win your fight against the queen and…_

…_get her out of the way…_

Rumpelstiltskin lingered longer on this thought than the others, walking toward his spinning wheel as he tapped his lips. Yes, if the queen was out of the way, he could be free. Free to love Belle. Free to feel her love. Even free from his power. He had that thought and was shocked that for the first time, he desired not to have it.

But how could he get rid of the queen? He had a few ideas, as conventional methods wouldn't work on her. He'd have to be crafty, imaginative, and it would have to be a well-thought-out plan. Perhaps he might just get lucky, and an opportunity might present itself. He'd let many others slip right past him, but from now on, he'd be looking for every chance to take her out - permanently.

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><p><em>Love to all you wonderful readers and reviewers! Next update, <em>_sometime __this weekend. :)_


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: ** Hi, all! I'm sorry I haven't lived up to the promise to update every few days as it's been over two weeks since the last one, but it hasn't been for lack of trying. I've been literally blocked, trying to work out the plot and fighting my muse with writing this chapter. Luckily, I had the idea to borrow a few scenes from the show, which made the lack of fluff in it much more bearable to write. And the muse is back to working with me now, so, let's hope updating more regularly again will be back on track.

That being said,** there are word-for-word scenes from "Heart of Darkness" in this chapter and spoilers for "The Stable Boy," so if you haven't seen those eps yet and don't want to be spoiled, don't read this until you do. **

**Disclaimer: **I'm not claiming any ownership to the brilliant lines and scenes written for "7:15" and "Heart of Darkness" - I'm just borrowing them to add some of Rumpel's thoughts in order to explain his plan.

There will be one more disclaimer in an author's note at the end of the chapter, and not here, only because I don't to spoil the surprise. :D

Many, many thanks this time to both **TrueLove'sMiss** and **Morbid Drama****Queen10** for beta'ing and your input! Believe it or not, you both picked up on different things, lol. You're both invaluable to me, as are all my readers! :o)

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 6:<strong>

What most people didn't know about Rumpelstiltskin and the mystery surrounding his immense power, was that he hadn't achieved it all on his own. It had come from many different sources - wizards, witches, creatures of folklore, and a few bad fairies - all of whom he'd killed to obtain their power. His only real adversary - other than Queen Regina - were the good fairies. Like pesky flies on a compost pile, he couldn't seem to get rid of their kind, at least not completely. Most of the time, he was able to avoid them, as they did their _good_ while he worked his evil schemes, but on occasion, he'd find he needed the kind of magic only they could give. Finding that magic wand held by one particular fairy godmother was now a necessity. He had a lot of power, but to take on the queen's ever-increasing knowledge of spells and chants and powers that came with her status as a witch, he would need something stronger, something more powerful than either of them had ever held. He'd need the power of love at his fingertips. And once he had it, he'd need the wand to put that love potion to work.

But first, he had to deal with Regina's constant picking at Belle, and that would be a simple fix. After inviting Regina to his castle to talk, he'd put Belle in a trance, where she'd continue to do her work but wouldn't react in any way to anything he said or did to her. Regina seemed impressed when she saw Belle scrubbing the floor on her knees, dutifully cleaning up behind Rumpelstiltskin when he walked through the area she'd already cleaned, leaving boot-prints and kicking over her bucket of water in the process. He raised the bar of his disinterest in her when she stood and bumped into him, and he responded by smacking her face, causing her to fall to the floor.

"Hm," Regina noted from her perch on the steps as, like a drone under her trance, Belle merely got up and cleaned the mess he'd made without a word before taking the bucket outside for more water. "Dutiful little thing, isn't she?"

"She's satisfactory," he proclaimed with a careless shrug, walking up the stairs to the landing above her. "The place was a mess before she came."

Regina followed him, wondering, "And you're completely over how she tried to take away your power?"

"She was just young and naïve. She's learned her place now as my servant and nothing else."

"Hm," the queen repeated. "If only it were that easy with everyone."

Rumpelstiltskin led her up the stairs to his tower, filled with potions and tools of power that he'd collected over the years. Those things he'd thought he might ever use against her were tucked away and hidden, but he did allow her to see most of his lair. "Is that…Snow White giving you more trouble?"

Regina sighed dramatically. "As if to add insult to injury, the little trollop has actually managed to find _love_," she said the word with distaste, "out there in the middle of the woods. That stupid little prince that's supposed to marry King Midas's daughter, has gone and stolen her heart, according to his father, King George. Ugh," she groaned, picking up a little box and checking its contents, finding it empty, "if only that huntsman had done his duty, she wouldn't have had a heart to lose. Instead, _I_ would have it." She smirked at her own wit.

_And we all know what you do with hearts,_ he thought, keeping it to himself. He wondered if her own heart was in her collection, since she always was so cold and calculating, even before she'd married Snow's father. He knew, of course, of her history, how she'd once loved and lost, due to Snow's reveal of the secret affair, unleashing her mother Cora's powers on her one true love which killed him. Regina had vowed then and there that Snow would pay for what she'd done. Even if it took decades, she'd seek the ultimate revenge.

He focused on the task at hand, suddenly realizing that Snow and her true love would be the perfect test subject for his love potion. He needed a young couple whose hearts were true to make it work; he'd tried it with others, but their love or their motives must not have been pure, because it had never worked. But Snow and Prince James - the courageous young man who'd permanently stepped into his twin brother's shoes - would be just the kind of subjects he needed. Now, he only would have to wait until they came to him for help; eventually, they all did.

"I need something powerful," Regina was saying, bringing him back to the present. "But I've decided I don't want to kill her anymore. Death would be too…easy. I want her to suffer." Wandering over to his cabinet of potions, she studied each label. "She doesn't deserve to be with the man she loves."

"You'd like them separated for all eternity, then?" he asked, all the while thinking he'd make sure to do the opposite, just to seek his own revenge on Regina for her attack on Belle.

She spun on her heel to face him. "Yes," she replied, suddenly seeing the possibilities. "Rumor has it that you have a curse that might accomplish that for me…" Regina said arrogantly, seemingly pleased with his instant surprise that she knew. It was something he'd created some time back when he was alone and power-hungry, before he'd answered Maurice's cry for help, and before he'd chosen Belle as payment and lost his heart to her. Regina didn't know any of this, how his heart had changed toward the very existence of this curse. She went on, revealing what she knew. "I'm told it's a way to separate everyone from what they love the most." Her voice dropped in pitch as her anger flared, fire in her eyes. "She's taken what was most precious to me - I think she only deserves the same."

For the first time in a long time, he actually feared what she was capable of. But he hid his feelings well as he asked, "And where did you hear about this…curse?"

She smirked at him. "It doesn't really matter if you have it. Do you?" she practically interrogated, with the way she stared at his face, looking for deception.

"It's…not as pleasant as it sounds," he warned, moving around the room to keep her from having all the control. "There would be consequences for everyone, including you, dearie!"

Regina turned as she watched him circle her. "What kind of consequences?"

"We would all - everyone in our world - be transported to a world far _different_ than our own. Where there would be no more love, no happiness, no happy endings."

Regina's smile was more evil than ever. "Sounds perfect."

"Oh," he sang with a false cheer, "but there's more!" He bounced over closer to her to whisper dramatically, "In this perfect new world, we would all be…trapped."

"Trapped? How?"

He put his face right up close to hers. "By…_time_," he enunciated and then bounded away like a child skipping through a meadow. "Time would stand still, nothing would change, day in and day out, we would all stay the same," he sang as he skipped around the room.

"Time," Regina repeated, ignoring his little song and dance. "For how long?"

"Oh, all eternity, dear!"

"Hmm," she considered it while Rumpelstiltskin slowed but continued to move and dance about.

He was hoping that his warnings would be enough to scare her away from wanting the curse. As it was, a curse, once created, wasn't something that could be casually thrown away; it had to be used and then be broken. There was no other option.

"I'll take it," Regina declared, and Rumpelstiltskin inwardly cringed, making his movement come to a halt.

But he was all smiles when he turned toward her and found her hand outstretched, awaiting the curse. "'Just like that,' she says," he cackled. "This isn't some ordinary curse, Your Majesty. This will destroy our world _forever_. There's no coming back!"

"But it will banish us all to a world where Snow White is separated from the man she loves and trapped in time for all eternity? That alone is far worth it." She held her ground. "Name your price."

He turned and began to pace, knowing there was no way to stop her, as she didn't care about the consequences of enacting the curse. He would have to name a price, and he would have to give it to her if she agreed. He needed time to plan an escape, a way to keep his own powers and control. Love was the only thing strong enough to break it; he had to keep her from using the curse before he was ready with a cure.

"Well?" Regina prodded.

He stopped and pointed one finger at her. "I tell you what…" he paused. "I'll give it to you, if you agree to use it only when I say you can. You must first try all other avenues to destroy Snow White's happiness."

"Why?"

"Because I have a life here, too, dearie! I'll tell you when the time is right."

"Then, what good is it to have it if I can't use it when I want to?"

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "It's a good trade. I know the witch, Maleficent, has a sleeping curse that might just keep Snow White away from her true love forever." However, he'd make sure that wouldn't happen. "I've heard that with one drop of that potion, she would fall asleep forever!" (Which could be undone with True Love's Kiss, he knew - and he'd make sure that Prince James could find her when the time was right.) "Being your friend, Maleficent would surely trade…"

"And, how do you know _she_ won't use the Dark Curse?"

His voice dropped in volume. "Because she's like me, dearie. She's happy in our world the way it is."

Though she knew her friend better than Rumpelstiltskin did, she knew he was right. Maleficent was nothing if not a sentimentalist. She liked having control over her little corner of the world, even if Princess Aurora did get the best of her some years earlier and was living happily with her prince in her kingdom despite Maleficent's agony of defeat. Unlike Regina, revenge was not something she was intent on seeking.

"Hm," she thought aloud, "perhaps you're right, and something else could be done to get what I want. I may never have to use the Dark Curse if Maleficent's little sleeping number does the trick. And if it doesn't," she smiled evilly, "I'll just take it back." She held out her hand, waiting for the vial or whatever the curse was kept in to be put in her hand. "Well, let's get on with it, then. I have places to be."

Rumpelstiltskin held up a finger. "Wait. This is far too important for a verbal contract, dearie. I'll need you to sign for it." He flipped his hand and out rolled a scroll. With a sigh, Regina took it and scanned the document before making a feather-pen to appear in her hand which she used to sign her name to the bottom line. He giggled as he let the scroll roll back up and disappear again. "Deal!" He then made a vial appear in his hand, which he held out for her.

"This is it?" she asked, staring at the little bottle and its black contents.

"Don't open it until you're ready to use it," he warned. "Once open, there's no turning back."

Keeping the vial tucked tightly in her fist, she headed for the door, tossing over her shoulder, "Pleasure doing business with you."

He bowed in response. "And you as well, Your Majesty."

He giggled again while she was still within earshot, but once she was gone, his face turned serious. He had some work to do to keep from losing Belle forever.

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><p>He'd thought it wouldn't be too long before having the opportunity of meeting the infamous Snow White, but he hadn't expected her summons on that very evening after Regina's visit. She was headed to him, coming up the river to the south of his castle, and he made sure to meet her there at the dock. "How much for this?" he teased as a greeting when he appeared in her boat.<p>

"Excuse me?"

"Your boat. Exquisite craftsmanship."

"It's not for sale," she said, surprising him with her strength. It was no wonder Regina saw her as such an adversary.

"Of course it is, dearie. No one comes to see me without a deal in mind."

Realization was evident in her face as she stood up from tying the boat to the dock. "So, you're Rumpelstiltskin."

He stood as well. "Indeed, I am." He stepped out onto the dock. "I've been looking forward to meeting you. Wow…" he dragged out the long vowel, holding her smooth, pale face with both hands, "you really are the fairest of them all, aren't you? What can I do for you?" he asked, removing his hands from her to keep her from being afraid of him and ask what she came for.

"I need a cure."

"What ails you, child?"

"A broken heart?"

"Ah, the most painful of afflictions." He began to walk around her. "Well, I'm afraid if you want me to make him love you, no can do and nothing can."

"No, wait, no, that's not the problem. We can't be together."

So, it was true, then. Their love _was_ real, but they were separated by James' duty the king. He needed something that would bring them back together, even if it meant giving her what she wanted to distance them even more for a time. True Love could never be separated for long, no matter what attempts were made. "Well, _that_," he declared, "I can help you with." He giggled as he pulled out an empty bottle from his pocket and knelt to dip it in the water beneath the dock, filling it. Then he used his magic to change it from simple water to a potion, which was visible by its white color.

"That'll do it?"

"Not yet. No two loves are," he smiled up at her, "exactly alike." He stood and moved closer to her. "We must make this _personal_," he said just as yanked a bit of her hair out from under her hood, making her gasp in shock and pain. Then he laughed again as he shoved the hair into the bottle and corked it.

"So, if I drink that, I'll no longer love him," she assumed.

"The next time you see the object of your grief, you won't even remember who he is."

This seemed to disappoint her. "I won't remember him?"

"Love is the most powerful magic, so the cure must be…extreme."

"Extreme sounds like an understatement."

"Don't doubt yourself now, dearie! Love makes us sick. Haunts our dreams, destroys our days. Love has killed more than any disease. This cure…is a gift."

"What's your price?"

He held up the remaining strands of her hair, knowing they were exactly what he needed for his own potion. "These'll do."

"What do you need of my hair?"

"What do you need of it, now that it's been plucked from your head?" he joked with her. "Do we have a deal?"

She answered by taking the potion from him.

"I thought so," he nearly cackled again. "Drink it in good health…Snow White," he concluded, turning to walk down the dock, into the darkness, and out of sight.

Now, if she took the potion - which he'd encouraged with his little speech about love's disease - she'd forget her True Love. Rumpelstiltskin already knew that James was unhappy with his betrothal to Princess Abigail, so James would eventually leave and go in search of Snow and would probably come to him for help. He'd get the other half of his potion then. Things were all falling right into place; he'd get the cure all ready for the Dark Curse, and then give Regina the go-ahead to use it, making her believe that it was what he wanted all along as well.

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><p>The next morning when she served him his breakfast, Belle mentioned her lost time from the day before, while she was in the trance she knew nothing about. Rumpelstiltskin merely shrugged and pretended not to know what she was talking about, but after she left the room, guilt seeped into his heart. What would it take for him to speak the truth to her, just once? Would it really have hurt to tell her about the queen's visit, his abuse of her while she was in the trance, just to convince the queen he had no feelings for her? He supposed he thought it would, as revealing that much of the truth would be enough to expose his attachment to her. Then there would be no holding her back, if, in fact, her love were indeed as real as it felt.<p>

Just as he'd coerced, Regina had traded the Dark Curse for the sleeping one, and he was glad that she would be occupied with that for a time, as she would have to get the Blind Witch to poison an apple and find children worthy enough to retrieve it. Yes, it would take time, and he needed that time for Prince James to come to him for help. He thought he might get his visit while James was on a quest to save Princess Abigail's True Love from his cursed, golden prison and facing the siren in Lake Nostos would be too daunting a task, but the brave young man had stood up to her alone and had defeated her. His courageousness was yet another reason Rumpelstiltskin was sure that he'd chosen the right couple for his potion.

He could be patient and wait; he had time. Once Prince James came to him for help, he'd have the formula for love, and he could use it to his advantage. While True Love's Kiss can break any curse, the Dark Curse was so powerful that it would take a bit more - something that would require the use of that particular formula. It would take True Love's _Child_…

It was a month before Snow White came to see him again, this time accompanied by one of her dwarf friends, the aptly-named "Grumpy." Belle had been passing by the front door when they'd knocked, so she'd let them in, surprised to find a dwarf with a beautiful, but angry-looking young woman.

"Isn't this where Rumpelstiltskin lives?" the dwarf asked in confusion. It was clear he wasn't sure who Belle was.

"Yes," Belle answered. "I'm his-" she started, her voice dropping in tone a bit as she admitted, "I'm his servant."

"Oh," he replied. "Well, we'd like to see him."

Belle nodded and stepped back, allowing them to enter the castle. The fair one looked around as if she were bored or uninterested in being there. Belle started to lead them to the stairs, but when she looked up to the landing and saw Rumpelstiltskin there, she stopped suddenly. She gestured with her head to the couple behind her. "They've come to see you, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Yes, thank you," he said politely, with an edge of coldness to his voice.

Belle dropped her gaze and curtsied to let them be, completely sure that any feeling he had for her was long gone by now. It had been a long month of enduring his silence. Even when she questioned him about something, he would gesture or use some other form of body language to answer her and successfully keep from opening his mouth to speak to her again. Those months of spending time together in the dining hall or the garden were gone. He'd even moved his spinning wheel into his west-wing tower; she noticed it missing one morning, asked him about it, and received his one-word answer that it was "upstairs." Belle thought it was just another way of avoiding her, saddened that he would never again return her feelings.

But she didn't see how his gaze followed her as she walked away, even as he began speaking to Snow White and Grumpy in greeting. Belle rounded a corner where he could no longer see her, so he turned and led his guests up the stairs to his tower. He began to stand and spin his wheel as he asked the reason for their visit.

Grumpy replied, "The potion you gave Snow - it changed her; she's not the same."

"Well, of course it changed her," he spoke with his hands. "It took away her love, left a big hole in her heart." He walked around the wheel toward Grumpy as he explained, "There is no cure for what she's got. The person she was…" he paused, leaning in closer to the dwarf as they both looked over at Snow. "There's no way to bring her back."

He then walked over to his cabinet and opened it. "No potion could bring back true love," he didn't lie. There were other ways of getting her back together with the man she loved, ways that were much more subtle than forcing a potion on someone that would reject it. "Love is the powerful magic of all," he said, thinking it odd that he was actually speaking the truth for once. "The only magic I haven't been able to bottle. If you can bottle love, you can do _anything_." He thought of his own plans for the bottle of love he would soon have to fill that empty spot in his cabinet, and what he'd use it for.

But he had to keep his focus to accomplish that goal. First order of business would be to arrange a way for Snow to reunite with James and get her memory back, healing their love. Of course, Snow White's heart was not ready to accept love again; she had to first deal with her hate, through seeking her revenge on the queen. He turned to the girl and asked, "But you don't care about that, do ya?" He peered into her face and wondered, "Now, what is it you really want?"

"I want your help…" Snow confessed evenly, "to kill the queen."

"Now we're talking, dearie," he eagerly replied, knowing that was exactly his ultimate plan.

Grumpy protested behind him, but Rumpelstiltskin was on a mission to help her and help himself at the same time. He walked over to the bow and arrow he'd acquired some years back that he'd been saving for just an occasion. A certain cherub, named - of all things - Cupid, that the queen had once tried to distract him with, by having him fall in love, had failed his quest when Rumpelstiltskin had caught on to his scheme and killed the little trickster before he'd had a chance to use his magic on him. The magic was still in the bow and arrow, meaning that it would draw two people who loved each other back together. Whether she knew it or not, Snow needed to find James, and Rumpelstiltskin knew that James would use him to find her, and he'd get his needed hair for the potion.

Snow was intrigued by the weapon as he hooked the string to its bow. "Now, what is this?"

"This…" he paused dramatically, "is how you kill the queen!" he said, knowing that would be the only way she'd take it.

"How will that help me get into the castle?"

"No, no, no, that's impossible." (And James wouldn't find her at the queen's palace where she was likely to be killed first.) "You have to kill her…when she's on the move, when she's on her way…" he unrolled a map that appeared in his hand, "to the Summer Palace. Fire the arrow from this spot here," he pointed to a spot on the map, "and you'll be hidden from sight. An arrow fired from this bow will get you exactly what you need," he added honestly. He picked up the arrow as she tucked the map into her vest, telling her with a surprising truth she couldn't understand, "It always finds its target!" For he knew that her target, whether she intended it or not, would be James. Somehow, he'd be the one to take the arrow, as that was the power of Cupid's magic. It would be the magic that would reunite their love.

Grumpy didn't understand, nor would he be able to. "I can't stand by it…" he proclaimed. "If you take that weapon, you do it alone."

She was cold as she announced, "That was always my plan."

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled as she took the weapon, knowing he was one step closer to succeeding.

"So, what do I have to do in return?" Snow wondered.

"Do? You don't have to do anything, dearie."

She narrowed her eyes. "Everything comes with a price with you. Last time, you took a strand of my hair. What's in it for you this time?"

"Let's just say…" he said mysteriously, "I'm invested in your future." Without knowing it, she was helping him break the curse they would all fall victim to, long before it was to be enacted.

His words were enough to make Snow's face frown, but not question him. Grumpy touched her arm and gestured to the door with his head. "Come on; let's go," he urged, and Rumpelstiltskin was sure he was afraid that if they didn't leave soon, he might change his mind about the price for the bow and arrow. But he had what he needed from her, and in a matter of days, he would have what he needed from James too.

* * *

><p>Belle was coming down the front stairwell when she heard the front door open and heard a man shout Rumpelstiltskin's name. The anger in his voice frightened her, and she stopped out of sight on the steps, wondering what she should do. He repeated it a second time, his voice softening as he commanded for Rumpelstiltskin to show himself. Belle was just about to continue down the steps to greet him and announce that she hadn't seen her master in a few days, since she'd let the woman and her dwarf companion in. He'd been traveling, she assumed, so when she heard his voice answer the stranger, she again froze in place, eavesdropping on the conversation to understand the reason for his visit.<p>

"Still dressing like a prince, I see-" Rumpelstiltskin had said by way of greeting the stranger.

Belle found it curious that a prince would find it necessary to visit a wizard like him, but didn't let it distract her from listening in.

Her master wasn't concluded with his statement, adding, "-even though you ran away from the life I gave you. How's that for gratitude?"

She wondered about this prince's story. How had Rumpelstiltskin given a prince his life?

"You '_gave_' me a prison sentence," the prince bit back.

Belle was engrossed in the conversation even more, straining to peer into the room without being noticed, but she could only see just the hem of the prince's cloak.

"Yeah, one that you've now skirted," Rumpelstiltskin commented. "Careful, dearie. King George is a very vengeful man."

_King George,_ Belle thought, remembering back to when her father had once crossed that king and nearly lost his village in battle until Maurice agreed to repay what had been stolen by a poor commoner that called their township home. Yes, he was vengeful, she recalled. And his son's name was... – she searched her memory – James. Until that battle, her father had thought he might be a good match for Belle, but, soon, the knight, Sir Gaston became a more excellent choice, in his opinion.

"I'm here about Snow," Prince James announced. "Rumor has it she's after the queen, and she came to you for help."

"Yes, indeed," Rumpelstiltskin declared. It then hit Belle that they were talking about their last visitor. Snow White, she realized – the same girl that was wanted for treason against Queen Regina.

It was at that moment that she heard the unsheathing of a sword, which caused her to jump and her breath to catch in her throat. "What did you do to her?" the prince yelled.

Rumpelstiltskin only chuckled, which relaxed her a bit. "What did I do to her?" he said with that high-pitched tone she'd heard him use when making the deal with her father for her. For a brief second, she found it odd he didn't talk that way with her much anymore, since the first few months after her arrival at the Dark Castle. But Rumpelstiltskin's reply was far too intriguing to let her mind linger on the reasons why for too long.

"You mean, what did _you_ do to her?" he said. She saw his boots come into view as he circled the prince, arguing, _"You_ caused her pain. Without that pain, she would never have drank my potion to forget about _you. That's_ what changed her," he concluded, emphasizing every word.

"Undo the potion. All magic can be broken."

"Oh yes," Rumpelstiltskin replied, "with _Twoo Wuv_," he quipped, and she felt a pang of disappointment in her heart, thinking of her own opportunity to break his curse and how she'd failed.

"So, that's it, then," James said so quietly she almost missed it. "True Love's Kiss will awaken her."

"Most certainly," her master answered. "But, it's gonna be hard to kiss her when you don't know where she is!"

She heard the sound of metal as Rumpelstiltskin knocked James' sword away from his chest and laughed. Belle shrunk back on the step, afraid to move or even breathe when the man she loved moved even closer, thankful that he was looking down, and praying that he wouldn't even glance up and catch her. She couldn't even imagine what punishment she'd receive for eavesdropping, although she was sure it would include more time in her old "room."

"Name your price," the prince demanded, keeping Rumpelstiltskin's attention diverted from her.

"How about," he said persuasively, spinning on his heel to finish, "your cloak?"

"My cloak?" James repeated, confusion in his voice. "Why would you want my cloak?"

Belle found his reply that it was drafty in the castle as a flimsy one. What _did_ he want with James' cloak?

There was a long pause as the prince mulled it over and Rumpelstiltskin chuckled again.

She heard movement, and then, when James demanded to know where Snow was, she knew he must've given up the cloak as requested.

Confirming her assumption, Rumpelstiltskin didn't hesitate answering, "On her way to the queen's highway. This," she saw his feet move and heard the sound of rustling, "is the route she's taking." His steps took him out of her sight. "But you better be quick," he said as James took something from him, "because if she kills the queen, she becomes as evil as the woman whose life she takes."

"She could never become that evil." There was a confidence in his voice about that fact.

James' footsteps retreated from the room as Rumpelstiltskin called out to him, "Evil isn't born, dearie. It's made! If Snow starts down that road, you'll never get her back!"

Belle remained still, even as the door closed and Rumpelstiltskin remained in the room, which she knew when she heard him chuckling. Part of her heart wanted to know if what he said was true about evil. Was there no hope?

He started up the steps to go to his tower with the cloak, and she came down, meeting him on the landing. Despite her fears that she would be punished for her offense of listening in, she had to ask, "Is that true?"

He stopped and stared up at her, and for the first time since their meeting, she believed she'd actually been in his presence without his knowledge. "Is _what_ true?"

She decided to focus on the other couple's problem instead of their own. "About Snow White. Will the evil overtake her and leave James with no hope to get her back if she succeeds in killing the queen?"

For Rumpelstiltskin, the question had too many answers, for his plan was far too intricate for her to understand. He simply closed the gap between them and reached up to barely touch her cheek. "You needn't worry about that, dear."

He took a step away and turned to leave, but she had to know. "Is True Love really the cure for all magic?"

He didn't face her again, just dropping his chin a notch. "Yes, it is."

"Then, he'll stop her from killing the queen," she assumed hopefully.

This time, he did turn to look at her and smirked. "Oh, but if she succeeded, your enemy, Queen Regina, would be dead. Seems you would hope she'd succeed."

Belle was confused. "_My_ enemy?"

"The queen," he said lightly. "The queen who tricked you into 'losing' me, as you so aptly coined it weeks ago."

Belle's blood began to boil. "You mean, the queen I met on the road – _that_ was Queen Regina?"

"You didn't know?" He cackled, "Of course, dearie! Who else would she be?"

Oh, now she _wanted _Snow White to succeed, to kill the queen who'd pulled her away from the man she loved and had found a way to cure – but then... She'd miss out on love. Being in an unrequited love herself, Belle thought what a shame it would be if Snow never experienced it for real. Perhaps Snow would be more blessed than she, since James was clearly in love with her too, enough to bargain with Rumpelstiltskin to save her from the path down which she was headed.

"Your opinion has changed now, hasn't it?" he wondered, watching the emotions play on her face.

"No," she shook her head solemnly. "Snow White deserves a life of love, not evil. I hope James finds her and stops her."

"And that they live happily-ever-after?"

She met his gaze. "Yes. Everyone should be lucky enough to find that kind of happiness."

Leaving him with that, Belle continued down the steps, around the corner, and out of sight.

Rumpelstiltskin could only hope that someday, Belle would see that helping her find that same kind of happiness she desired for Snow White was his ultimate goal.

* * *

><p>AN: The idea to have the bow and arrow be Cupid's was _not _mine. **chloris** on LiveJournal was the one to suggest it, stating, in her words: "Now since Rumpel gave Snow a bow and arrow which _always_ finds its target and would get her what she needs, how likely is it that he did a deal with Cupid at some point? It seems clear to me that a never-missing bow wouldn't miss even if someone got in front of it unless it hit exactly who it was supposed to."

My muse just decided to take her note/suggestion and run with it. She gets total credit for that. You can find her notes and questions about the eps on **abc (dash) onceupon (dot) livejournal (dot) com.** There are episode tags that she uses for your convenience. Just click one of those and scroll down until you find her "questions."

Let me know what you think of the chapter, the plot, or whatever in your review! It helps to inspire me to write! :)


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hopefully the fluffiness of this chapter will make up for my long absence. :P No spoilers for this one.

So many thanks for all of the reviews and favoriting of this story! You guys are just too awesome for words. :)

Thanks again to **TrueLove'sMiss** for the fabulous beta!

And enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong>

Belle was serving tea one afternoon, when Rumpelstiltskin recalled the first time she'd done the same task. Startled by his sick joke, she'd dropped one of the cups that time, chipping it, which was one of his fonder memories of her since she'd come to the Dark Castle. It was then he realized she'd been there a full year. It hadn't seemed so long, yet it sometimes felt as though she'd been there forever. How had he'd lived before Belle?

_Alone, _he reflected. _Alone and unloved._ Things had definitely changed since then; her blush when their eyes met or their hands touched proved that her love for him was true. It moved him in a way he'd never been blessed; the only unconditional love he'd had before was with his son, though even Bae had left when he couldn't bear with Rumpelstiltskin's power.

But Belle... She was different, loving him in spite of his power, drawing out the human nature he'd buried so deep and forgotten. He'd noticed that his voice even dropped in pitch when it was just the two of them, though that had begun so early on that he couldn't exactly pinpoint when he'd stopped being a monster around her; he decided it was probably when she told him that she didn't believe he was. He'd figured there was no point in continuing on with the nonsense if she wasn't going to believe it.

_A year_, he thought again as she stirred a little cream into his tea the way he'd grown to like it. He purposely met her eyes and held her gaze, his hand reaching out to grasp his cup and brush his fingers against hers.

Belle quickly pulled her hand back and held it against her skirt, wiping it against the cloth of her apron as if to rub the feeling of his touch off of her. He watched her curiously, hoping again she wasn't repulsed by him and finding it unlikely by the color in her cheeks. She gestured toward the rest of the house. "I need to get an early start on dinner. I'm making a roast."

"Sounds lovely," he said, a bit distracted by a slight quiver in her voice.

She curtsied and hurried from the room, when he had an idea. He went to his mirror, uncovered it, and demanded that it show Belle. She was practically running from the dining room, her steps quick all the way to the kitchen, where she closed the door and leaned against it, putting her hand over her heart. "Oh..." she breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. "Rumpelstiltskin," she whispered, "if only you knew what you do to me."

His heart jumped in his chest, and he watched only long enough to note that she calmed enough to pull away from the door and get to work on the evening meal. He covered the mirror again, and held his hand over his own fast-beating heart as he returned to his chair at the table. _If only she knew what she did to me_, he thought, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the tall back of the chair. She truly did love him, wholly and unconditionally. Now it was up to him to convince her that it wasn't a feeling that was one-sided.

* * *

><p>Grumpy came to see him again the next week, asking for his help to free James from his prison, though he wasn't accompanied by his fair friend this time. Snow wasn't as interested in seeking Rumpelstiltskin's help again, knowing the price that should come with it, regardless of his previous generosity, not asking for anything more. Rumpelstiltskin knew that if she had come, he'd give her whatever was she needed, but this was better. He had to keep his reputation for being the Dark One who dealt only in dark deals.<p>

For the first time, he was at a loss for a suitable payment for the invisible cloak he gave to Grumpy so that he could sneak into King George's dungeon and free James. But he knew that wouldn't do, when he had a thought. "You work in a diamond mine," Rumpelstiltskin bent his finger toward the dwarf. He'd been considering all week that Belle needed some kind of gift to acknowledge her year spent with him, deciding that he could fashion something out of the gold he had at his fingertips. A diamond would add that much more to it.

Grumpy frowned. "Yeah. So?"

"Well, you see..." he began to pace, "precious gems are hard to come by. I can't just snap my fingers and make them appear," he said with the flair of acting out what he was saying. "I have to get them the same way as everyone else."

Grumpy's eyebrows were suddenly crooked. "And you need a diamond? What for?"

"Ah!" he chastised, spinning on his heel to face him again. "That's my business." He pointed to the dwarf. "It's simple," he said with his usual sneer. "Bring me a diamond, and I'll give you the cloak."

"It's not that easy," Grumpy complained with a shake of his head. "I'll get in trouble if I take one from the mine. If I get caught-"

"You won't," the imp promised, staring at him until Grumpy understood that he would make sure of that by way of his magic.

"So, I just bring you a diamond..."

Rumpelstiltskin's head shook as he boasted merrily, "It's as easy as that!"

Assured that he wouldn't be caught, Grumpy hurried away from the Dark Castle to complete his quest. Twenty-four hours later, he was back, and held out a two-inch-long, cylindrical diamond he dropped out of a felt pouch from around his neck. "It was the best I could do," he vowed. "Hope it's what you were looking for."

"It's perfect," Rumpelstiltskin proclaimed as he stared at it the gem, until he noticed Grumpy's frown and realized he might be acting out of character. He snapped, the diamond was gone, and the cloak appeared in his hand, which he passed to the dwarf. "Your cloak." He also unrolled a magic map, and pointed to a spot on it. "You must enter the castle here," he instructed, "at midnight. Any sooner or later, and you'll be caught."

"I understand," Grumpy swore, taking the map he offered too. Then he did something Rumpelstiltskin wasn't expecting, and said, "Thank you."

Shocked by the sincere gesture of gratitude for his help that no one had ever offered before, Rumpelstiltskin stood mute as the dwarf left the hall and hurried out of the massive front doors. Perhaps he was losing his reputation of a mean-spirited imp after all. He couldn't let that happen just yet. He would have to think of more costly trades for his deals.

But for now, he was satisfied for what he'd bargained. He opened his hand and the diamond was again in his palm. It was an odd shape, but he could turn it into something special for Belle.

Closing his fingers around it again, he hurried up to his tower to get to work.

* * *

><p>Belle was washing dishes in the kitchen after dinner when he found her. He held the gift in his hand, unsure why he hadn't been able to give it to her earlier in the day, though he was deduced that it was just the same nervousness he was feeling now. It had been burning a whole in his pocket all day, and with it currently in his hand, he felt as though it was the object that was making him perspire and not the pounding of his own heart.<p>

Nothing had changed since their fight some weeks earlier, except his inner scrutiny and his belief that she was right, and his plan could work to bring them together in the end. He stood in the doorway, chiding himself for hesitating, knowing she could accept a simple gift without expecting her to feel any differently about him. It was most likely that she would see it just as the kind of friendly gift he wanted it to be, but inside...he knew that it was coming from a much deeper place than one of friendship. His nerves under control, he forcefully walked into the kitchen to get the task over with...but every step felt like he was crumbling inside. If only she knew what power she held over him, she could render him useless. He'd have to be careful that that didn't happen, and he supposed, as long as held his own dagger and didn't allow her to kiss him, he would. Even if just the sight of her brown curls bouncing on her back as she worked compelled him to want to lose his power in what would be the most exhilarating of kisses.

Clearing his throat to shake the desire to kiss her again, he got her attention. "Oh," she exclaimed when she saw him standing a few feet behind her. "I'm sorry; I didn't know you were looking for me." She quickly shook the water off her hands and dried them on her apron. "I was daydreaming, I suppose," she offered a timid smile. "Is there something you need?"

What he needed didn't seem to matter in the moment; it was what he _wanted_ that he couldn't yet voice or act upon.

"I have something for you," he seemed to manage. He took a few steps closer and reached out with his arm, his fist closed around the object. "Hold out your hand," he softly commanded, and she did as was told. "To commemorate the year you've spent here." He gently handed her what he'd made and watched as she looked down and gasped in delighted surprise.

"Oh...Rumpelstiltskin," she mouthed breathlessly, unfolding the gold to find that it was a chain with an inch-long diamond that hung from it. She marveled at the clarity of the stone – almost perfectly clear enough to see through – and the way it was mounted and hung from one end like an icicle. "It's beautiful," she said, knowing the word wasn't nearly adequate enough to declare what she thought of it.

He'd only used a portion of the diamond Grumpy had brought to him, deciding to save some of it for another occasion – or even a potion or spell, if the need for it arose, which it did on occasion. He carefully lifted the necklace from her palm and walked around her to fix it to her neck, but wasn't prepared for the blended fragrance of flowers that wafted from Belle's hair when she lifted it to allow him to do so. It hit his nose like a wave, and for a several breaths after the necklace was secured, he closed his eyes and inhaled her unique scent.

Belle turned when she felt the weight of the jewelry and caught him with his hand in her hair, his eyes closed in enjoyment, for just a moment before he opened them and pretended all was as it used to be. She smiled, her heart leaping into her throat, thankful that she was beginning to notice such little things that proved that everything between them had indeed changed. She chanced reaching up to touch his face, and then she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Rumpelstiltskin had seen her coming and froze with his eyes wide-open, watching her to make sure she didn't aim for his lips. But when the warmth of her breath reached his cheek, he let his lids drift closed again, dreaming for that moment that what they had was so much more.

Keeping her face close to his, she told him quietly, "Thank you for the gift, but...you should know by now that I don't need anything from you but your..." she stopped and amended her statement. "Y-your kindness is enough." She picked up the diamond pendant and rolled it between her fingers. "But...I do love it."

He nodded stiffly. "I'm glad."

The awkward moment making him uncomfortable, he skirted around her to head for the door.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she called out, causing him to stop and look back at her. She held the diamond between her fingers. "I've had a good year...here."

"No complaints, then?"

"Well," she smirked, casually taking a few steps closer to him, "I do wish you'd trust me a bit more. But on the whole, you've been good to me, much better than I expected when I left my father's house with you."

He nodded, his mind unable to come up with anything appropriate to say.

"I never expected a gift from you." He glanced up at her and saw that she was again fingering the diamond and staring at it.

"Then we're nearly even," he heard his voice speaking, seemingly unable to stop himself. "I never expected your love."

He left the room when he saw her mouth drop open. And he reprimanded himself – whether for leaving too soon or for admitting so much, it didn't matter – all the way up to his tower to spin.

* * *

><p>The winter seemed to be dragging on, Belle thought, as she was running out of ideas to keep her hands busy throughout the long days. The castle was spotless and easy to clean, taking only an hour or so of each day to tidy up, and a few hours each week to dust. It seemed like the dust was the hardest to keep up with, as laundering their clothing and bed-linens only took a couple of hours each week. Cooking was the only daily chore, so, many days, in those long and seemingly endless afternoon hours, Belle wandered around with nothing to do. Reading seemed to be her only refuge from the time and loneliness, as Rumpelstiltskin still seemed to be avoiding her.<p>

She'd read everything within reach in the library by the time March rolled around, and was considering what books she had left that were too high up. Multiple ladders around the room and balconies at the second-floor level made it easier, but she was sure the room was designed by a man, for men, as some of the shelves were simply too far out of reach for Belle.

Alas, her willpower was far too strong to let her mind and hands be idle, so she ventured up the tall ladder toward a particular book that intrigued her. She was up on the highest rung, holding onto a shelf's edge as an anchor, and stretching as far as she could when Rumpelstiltskin came in the room.

"Please...do not fall," he softly commanded as his way of announcing his presence.

Belle stopped reaching for the book to hold onto the shelves with both hands and look down at him with a pleased smile. "Well, now that you're here to catch me..."

He crossed his arms. "And if I hadn't come into the room at this very moment, would you be as careless?"

"Perhaps," she shrugged and laughed, enjoying their banter. She sobered until her lips were merely smiling. "I didn't know you were home."

He softened a bit. "Don't move; I'll help you down."

She was surprised when he deftly climbed the ladder to stand behind her, his shoes one rung below hers, and he wrapped his arm snugly about her waist. Belle's breath caught in her throat, and she found it difficult to breathe, yet, she knew it wasn't because he was squeezing her too tightly. His tender touch alone was the only reason for her body's reaction.

"Hold here," he pointed to a shelf lower than the one her hands were gripping, "and step down, very slowly, one rung at a time."

She could have argued that she'd gotten up there by herself and could manage getting down the same way, but there was something about the way he was caring for her that made her mute. Instead, she did as she was told, moving at a snail's pace, as if prolonging the enjoyment of his nearness that would be gone the minute he was sure she could manage on her own.

Step by step, they descended the ladder together until she had both hands on the long sides. He checked to make sure she was okay and then continued the rest of the way to the floor alone. He went on giving her instructions as she came down after him, even as she managed it with ease...until her foot slipped on the last rung closest to the floor. She fell back into his arms in the same position she'd been in at the top of the ladder, with his arm around her waist. "Oops," she mouthed, feeling silly for so slight a mistake, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding so fiercely that she was certain he could hear it. She took a breath to calm herself, but it didn't work when she noticed he didn't remove his arm from her waist.

"And that's why I helped you down," he declared.

"You know how clumsy I am," she agreed, resting her arm on his, leaning back against him as he put his lips to her ear.

"You must promise never to put yourself in that kind of danger again," he whispered, his voice a touch harsh.

Belle was so struck by his warm breath on her ear that she would've agreed to anything just to keep him there, even though the directness of his tone frightened her a little. She nodded, still unable to speak, only slightly curious for his warning. Wasn't he a wizard who could prevent accidents, protect her from injuries, or heal them once they occurred? It seemed it would be so easy a task for one with his power. Why did he care if she was in danger?

He didn't move his lips from her ear, nor his hand from around her waist, though his voice did soften. "Which book were you reaching for?"

It occurred to her after a moment that he'd asked a question that required an answer, and she opened her eyes to look up – somewhat dazed – at the shelves above the ladder. "Gold book, red stripes on the spine, well worn."

He snapped his fingers, and she saw the book was missing from the shelf and was now in his free hand. "This one?"

"Yes," she managed, lifting her head from his shoulder to stand on her own strength. She reached for the book and turned slightly toward him as he gradually released his hold on her waist. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, miss. Now, please, heed my warning. If ever you have need of something out of reach, I'd rather you call for me to help you."

She shook the haziness of their closeness from her mind. "But...I never know if you're out or gone... If you're up in your tower in the west wing, I'm not allowed to go in search of you. I don't think you'd like me to stand at the bottom of the stairs and bellow for you."

"Indeed not," he agreed, pursing his lips. "Whether I'm home or away, you need only to speak my name three times to summon me."

"That's it?" she asked, and he nodded. She wondered, "Is that all _anyone_ has to do to speak with you?"

"Yes, though there are more well-known ways amongst the people. If everyone knew how easy it was to summon the Dark One, I would not rest at'all."

"My father summoned you by letter," she thought aloud.

"Yes, that's one way," he bobbed his head once. "There is also a rock across our river that need only to be struck twice and a candle in a specific tree that could be lit..." He shrugged, "Different groups circulate different myths, and all of them work to acquire my attention."

"Who else knows the method of merely calling your name thrice?"

His voice was quiet. "You're the first, dearie."

Belle inhaled sharply, knowing his sharing that secret with her was a big step toward an intimacy for which she hadn't dared hope in weeks. He seemed a bit restless in the moment, and she knew he was most likely looking for an appropriate time to escape the tenseness between them. But she didn't want it to end and have him leave her with her loneliness again.

She cleared her throat, holding out the book. "I was just going to read for an hour or so before I start on dinner. If you're not busy, would you…care to join me? I could read aloud."

Having nowhere to go and no task before him, he couldn't refuse her, but since he didn't trust his own voice, he simply nodded and let her lead the way to the sofa by the fire. The wind was howling softly outside, but by the fire, it was cozy and comfortable. And with her, it was his own personal heaven.

The book she'd chosen was about a sultan and a woman and her thousand and one nights filled with stories. Rumpelstiltskin was enraptured, but not necessarily with the book or the smooth way in which Belle read. He was caught up in the movement of her lips, the shape of her mouth, and the blue of her eyes. He was so mesmerized, in fact, that when she stopped and looked up at him, he couldn't recall what was happening in the story.

Belle closed the book and quirked her lips. "I have to start on dinner now. We could read more later this evening, if you'd like."

"I would like that," he found himself saying, though he wouldn't have planned to be so impulsive.

She read for another hour after dinner before her voice got tired and she closed the book. And for the following hour, neither of them said anything, just staring at the flames in the fireplace, lost in their own thoughts.

When he was home, each evening after dinner was spent that way, and over several weeks, it became routine. Belle would read a book she'd chosen for longer periods some nights, and others, they'd stare at the fire the way they were now. After the first week, he began to tell her when he was going away and for how long, and unlike those first few trips he took, he kept his word, returning exactly when he said he would, so that she wouldn't wait in vain for him by the fire with her book. Conversations between them came easier, shared smiles became more natural, and the space between them on the couch lessened with each passing day.

* * *

><p>Moments by the fire increased as the weeks moved on, though Belle's reading aloud didn't seem to be the reason. Some nights she didn't even sit down with a book, yet, neither seemed to be able to move from their seats each evening, just enjoying the silence and the fire together. Oftentimes, Belle would eventually succumb to the fatigue, letting her head fall to the back of the sofa. Rumpelstiltskin would typically wait until he knew she was out before standing and lifting her in his arms and carrying her up to her room. Until one night, when he longed for more.<p>

He'd been watching how heavy her eyelids seemed to be for a while, thinking how he should voice that she could go on to bed, but keeping silent. For some reason, he could never seem to warn her that she was getting sleepy and urge her to go upstairs to her room to sleep; instead, he just watched in awed silence, until her head fell against the pillow on the back of the tall sofa. He'd taken to watching her sleep over time, sometimes tugging the hair by the ends away from her face to see her better or straightening her skirt over her curled up feet to keep her warm. He made sure never to touch her skin, afraid that once he started, he wouldn't be able to stop until he was powerless.

But this time was different, he realized as her cheek dropped to rest on her arm on the couch. He'd had a desire to touch her for far too long and no strength to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to just see what it felt like to love her the way she had him, and he didn't exactly know how. It had been so long since he'd even tried, and Charlotte had held the reins in their relationship, seducing him whenever she felt like it. He'd been just as helpless then, which was probably why he feared Belle's unselfish love. He could tell that she would wait for him to love her, and when that day came, he wouldn't know what to do. His arm around her waist that day he'd rescued her from the ladder had been the extent of his romantic capabilities, and that had been out of sheer concern for her safety. What if she wanted more, and he didn't know how to behave?

And then there was the possible rejection to contend with. Her response to any of his advances, whether she pushed him away or asked for more, would be difficult to live with. What if he couldn't give her more? What if his love wasn't enough to satisfy her? Even though she swore that her feelings for him were real and that she'd love him anyway, he still felt like it was a risk. What if she was mistaken? What if what she thought was love was really just a sort of respect, the way one feared a god or some other powerful being? When he didn't have that power anymore, she might come to think that he wasn't good enough for her. He'd seen Gaston, who was young and handsome and much closer to what Belle deserved. Her father had chosen wisely for her, even if Belle proclaimed that Gaston had been far too superficial for her to love. He'd always thought of himself as shallow, especially since acquiring his power. How was he any different than Gaston?

She was sound asleep now, judging by the deep breaths flowing in and out of her lungs. Her stocking-covered-feet were tucked up under her skirt on her other side, her knees turned toward him. He scooted as close as he could and studied her perfect face. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever possessed, and he hadn't expected to fall so victim to her love when he'd first acquired her. Had he known how willing he'd be to give up everything to have her, would he have made a different choice back then? Surely her father had something else of value that he could have traded for. He'd still be happy with just his power, but, of course, he'd miss out on this, her love and devotion to him, her beauty.

Slowly lifting his hand, he carefully pushed the hair away from her face to see her more clearly. Her cheek was flawless and looked so white against the contrast of his dark hands. She had the faintest freckles high on her cheekbones that he hadn't seen before. His fingers lightly traced the bones of her face to her hairline, which he gently pushed further back. Hidden beneath her brown tresses, her ears were the smallest he'd ever seen. He fought the urge to kiss her in that same spot she'd found on him a few months earlier in the carriage, the one that had sent waves of tingling through his limbs.

Focusing his thoughts on continuing his study of her, he let the backs of his long, slender fingers very lightly caress her cheek and trace her jaw line. Her skin was as soft as cotton and nearly as pale, but it glowed in the firelight, giving her face a warmth and a specific appeal he couldn't pinpoint. Beauty was not something that she had to fight for, as it came naturally to her. He wondered if her sisters were nearly as pretty as she, though he doubted it. He couldn't imagine anyone being as attractive and alluring as his Belle.

His thoughts gave him pause, realizing that more than once he'd thought of her as his. Somehow, he didn't think she'd mind, though, and for the first time, the idea that their feelings might align didn't frighten him. It made him hopeful.

His gaze landed on her lips, and his fingertips quickly followed, lingering there. For a long moment, he worried that he'd lost his soul to her, when he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, the consequences be damned. He'd never initiated a kiss, not even with Charlotte. In hindsight, his former wife had probably been more woman than he could handle at such a young age, and she was far more experienced. He wasn't sure about Belle's experience, though he imagined that she must have kissed Gaston at some point, since they were supposed to get married before Rumpelstiltskin interfered. And she'd been the one to initiate their one kiss. But was it wise? He suddenly didn't seem to care, and that scared him. Still, he found that he was leaning in closer, unable to stop himself.

_Just once more_, he thought, closing his eyes. Fear had kept him paralyzed for far too long, but now, it was love that guided him to draw close to her face and place the lightest of feather-kisses on her full lips.

Nothing happened. He didn't change or lose his power, but it made sense that she would have to be involved in a kiss proving her true love in order to transform him.

In her sleep, she took a deep breath, making her head tilt back further into a much more irresistible position. But he couldn't allow the temptation to win; he might so enjoy kissing her that she'd awaken and kiss him back and then he would no longer have his power. Instead, he purposefully stood and lifted her in his arms to carry her to her bed.

Belle never stirred in each instance before, when he gently put her in her bed, but this time she did, grasping at his sleeves to keep him from standing up. She was still halfway toward sleep when she spoke his name, and in the next second, when she rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, she said quietly, "I love you."

Her breaths were immediately deep enough to confirm that she was asleep, so it seemed no harm for him to react the way he wanted to, falling to his knees at her bedside, holding her hand in both of his in total awe. "Oh, Belle," he whispered so as not to wake her again, kissing the back of her hand with a bowed head. "My dear, sweet Belle. I love you, too, precious," he softly voiced, tearfully realizing in the moment that it was true, from the depths of his heart. He planted yet another feather-light kiss in the same spot. "Someday we'll be free to share our love..."

He only hoped that "someday" would come quickly. But he couldn't love Belle and lose his power with the Dark Curse out there, waiting to be initiated and separate them forever. Their love could only be shared on the other side of it, in the next world, and he'd need his power and the cure to keep from losing her. His need to find that wand had just compounded a hundredfold. He needed this over and done with, as soon as possible, to move on to his forever, with Belle by his side.

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><p><em>Reviews are love! :D<em>


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: ***meekly waves* Hi to all my old readers and the many new ones! I know it's been, like - holy crap! How is that possible?! - two years since I updated this story, but I want you guys to know: I have no intention of ever abandoning it completely. I still think about it often, I still work on it now and then, and I honestly have changed, several times, which direction I'm going to go with it. But mostly, real life has just been distracting me from getting it done. And hey, we all know that the worst part about real life is that it gets in the way of fanfiction - am I right? ;)

Enough said! I'm back, baby! But I won't write any more and keep you from this update. :) No beta this time, so mistakes are mine. I hope you like it! Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 8:<strong>

Belle felt as though something had changed between her and Rumpelstiltskin, though she couldn't seem to pinpoint what. It was though there was a lightness to the air and a weight lifted, as if a stormy sky had cleared, and the sun was aching to shine through the heavy clouds once more. The palace she'd known since childhood as the "Dark Castle" no longer seemed so dark. Even Rumpelstiltskin seemed to walk with a lighter step when she'd pass by him.

There were other changes that were more curious, like the morning she found that his spinning wheel had returned to the dining hall. It hadn't been there when she'd served him his breakfast and made small talk about his plans for the day, but when she returned with his stack of clean clothing to leave on the table for him, it was back in its place by the southeast window. Belle was still staring at it when Rumpelstiltskin came into the room and sidled up next to her. "Something wrong, dear?"

"I was just noticing that your wheel..."

"Well, yes," he drawled, lightly stepping a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back. "It was becoming much too crowded upstairs," he explained, his nose wrinkled as if its former location had been an inconvenience, when just a few weeks prior, it had been an escape.

Somehow she knew that his excuse was a flimsy one, and it was just enough to make her smile. Changing the subject, she pat the articles of clothing. "Clean clothes for you."

He walked over toward the cabinet and opened the doors, reaching for a book, casually tossing over his shoulder, "Would you mind very much putting them away for me? I just don't have the time these days."

"But," Belle complained, "that would require venturing into the West Wing."

"Yes," he drew out for a long moment. Then he pivoted on his heel to face her. "You are no longer restricted from that area of the Dark Castle. Feel free to explore, and clean it to your heart's content."

She smiled at his teasing, both of them knowing how much she enjoyed cleaning. "Perhaps another day," she told him. "Today I'd planned to go to town."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Could you perhaps prepare a coachman for me again?"

"Of course," he said lightly, closing his eyes and snapping his fingers. "Done."

Belle giggled. "If only I could do that, I wouldn't have to bother you for such a simple task."

"I could make up a potion that would work to do the same thing..." he offered with a wave of his hands.

She saw the seriousness in his expression. "Oh," she said with a bit of shock. She didn't know that was possible. But, "...No, thank you," she decided, shaking her head, loving the fact that he was finally trusting her enough not to think she would take the opportunity to run away. But she just wasn't willing to abuse that unexpected faith. "It's unnecessary, I suppose, since I don't use the carriage very often and will, even less so, as spring approaches." She held up his clothes. "I'll just go put these away and then leave for town before it gets too late in the day. If the last few days are any indication, it's sure to storm this afternoon."

Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head in agreement. "I'll likely be gone when you return."

Belle spun back to look at him, something gripping her heart that she could only describe as impending loneliness. "Another trip?" He nodded in reply, and she accepted the reality of it. "Will you be away long?"

"No," he answered. "I should return before midnight."

"Oh," Belle smiled, relieved. "It's nothing dangerous, I hope."

"A simple transaction. A certain fairy godmother has something I need."

She didn't want to ask for further details, afraid she might be repulsed by his answers. Despite how much he'd changed since she'd come to work as his servant, he was still a trickster that made deals for the most valuable things – even he'd admitted to that much. Nodding, Belle smiled her parting and went on her way.

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><p>Midnight came and went, but Belle could not sleep. Though she had no idea how he traveled or to where in the castle he'd return, she somehow knew he hadn't arrived back home as promised. The air in the house felt different when he was there; when he was absent, it was as if the castle <em>felt <em>it and mourned. It, in turn, gave her a sense of hopelessness and despair she couldn't explain. She'd felt it before when he'd been away, but now it seemed stronger, more intense, as if even the walls were closing in on her. She needed him home.

Pacing and waiting and hoping everything had gone well with his transaction, Belle sighed and propped up on her windowseat, leaning her forehead against the cool pane. She didn't even try gazing out into the dark night, knowing she wouldn't see him even if it were possible. He could be anywhere, in any land on earth, even hurt somewhere, though, with his power, that seemed the least likely. The queen appeared to be the only one that he truly battled; she'd heard stories since she was a child about the Dark One's power and the deals he made for firstborn sons and maidens, though she hadn't seen evidence of other girls ever having been in his castle. Many stories had been circulated over the decades about the mighty Rumpelstiltskin and his treachery, and now, having lived and worked and even fallen in love with him, she was sure that the majority of them were probably myths. He seemed to be evil only because that's what was expected of him. Regina, on the other hand...

Belle sighed again, closing her eyes when an image of Regina with her hand around Rumpelstiltskin's neck popped into her mind. If anyone could best him, Belle was sure it would be her. If only she could be assured that he hadn't encountered the evil queen tonight... "Oh, Rumpelstiltskin," she mumbled, worry gripping her heart. She muttered his name again, and it reminded her of his instructions for summoning him, should she ever need him. She thought to try by whispering his name a third time, sure that it wouldn't work unless she voiced it aloud, when suddenly, the air in the room seemed thicker. Stunned by the difference in the atmosphere, Belle sat up and turned to find that the man she loved was standing at the foot of her bed. With a gasp, she hurried across the floor to throw her arms around his neck. "I thought you might be hurt," she explained over his shoulder.

His hands splayed across her back, Rumpelstiltskin smiled as he held her. "No, love. Just late. Before I could take what I needed, I had to make a girl's dreams come true, and she didn't make it home until after midnight."

She pulled away and held his face, searching his eyes, finding truth there. "Oh, but I hope I didn't bring you home too soon."

"I was already on my way," he said happily. "Did you miss me?"

She nodded once. "I think everything in the Dark Castle missed you. This place nearly weeps when you're gone."

"Ah," he looked around the room. "Yes, my magic travels with me and wanes here with my absence." He lifted a hand and held her cheek. "You are tired, my dear. You should rest."

"I'll rest better now that you're here."

As they stepped apart, he didn't try to take advantage of her open statement. He simply revealed, "After one more task, I'll have no reason to leave again for a long time."

"Good," Belle smiled her reply before leaning in to hug him again. She held his face in her hand while her gaze met his. "And yes, I did miss you very much." She then closed the distance between them and kissed his cheek, her lips lingering long on his cool skin.

He hugged her and kissed her cheek as well before pulling back and taking her hand. "Come. It's time to sleep."

Walking her over to the unmade side of the bed, he lifted the covers and gestured for her to get in. Belle did as instructed and lay still as he tucked the blankets around her. "Thank you," she smiled up at him. Goodnight."

He bowed his head. "Goodnight, my...Belle."

With his little stumble on her mind, wondering what he almost called her, she was already drifting off to sleep before he closed the door between them.

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><p>The wand in hand, it didn't take much for Rumpelstiltskin to use just a drop of the love potion in her father Henry's drink as he drowned his sorrows in a local pub, and cast a spell over him as the thing Regina loved most and would have to sacrifice in order to initiate the curse. Now Rumpelstiltskin was secured a way back to their world when the time came that he wanted to use it. He needed only James and Snow's firstborn child to break the curse, and that could be done anytime, with just the right influence on the child.<p>

That task taken care of, he knew the next step was to protect the bottle of true love and hide it in a secret place. And he found the perfect person for such a task, as the queen was still tormenting James and trying to keep him from Snow; Rumpelstiltskin knew the man could use a little help, and in exchange... He popped into the Infinite Forest where Regina had trapped James to keep him away from finding his Snow, who had been poisoned by an apple and was in so deep a sleep that the dwarves thought she was dead. Rumpelstiltskin tried to bargain with him to help him find her so that he might wake her with True Love's Kiss, but James had had enough, pointlessly fighting with him first. Once James realized Rumpelstiltskin could not be beat, he listened what he had to say and reluctantly did his bidding, hiding the potion of True Love in the one place it would not be found or destroyed by the curse: within Maleficent, who had taken on the form of a dragon; likely the only thing that wouldn't change, come that fateful day.

Rumpelstiltskin was actually fatigued when he arrived home, but the thought of seeing his Belle kept his spirits up. Knowing how much she enjoyed fresh flowers, he'd come prepared with a bouquet of wildflowers he'd taken from an obliging field and headed to the library where he knew she'd be. He was smiling as he entered and caught her sitting in a window seat with a book splayed in her lap, unread, as she gazed outside. She turned at the sound of the door, smiling over at him. "You're back."

He nodded, pulling the flowers from behind him, saying, "And not empty-handed."

Her smile widening, she slid her book to the seat beside her and approached him to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful," she crooned as she held the bunch to her nose to smell them. "Thank you. More proof that spring is in the air." She walked back toward the window to point out, "I was just noticing that the snow is all melted on the hill. It's so beautiful today. It makes me long to be out in the fresh air, walking or riding..."

"You're welcome to ride one of the horses, if you'd like. We have saddles, even a ladies' side-saddle," he said lightly, as if she should have known that, of course, his stables would be fully stocked with every supply possibly needed.

Belle impulsively kissed his cheek. "Oh, may I?"

"Of course," he replied, ignoring the heat he felt rising up his neck. "Shall I provide a servant to saddle the horse?"

"No," she grinned. "I can manage." She started for the door. "I'll be back in time to serve your dinner." And she hurried from the room, again tossing her thanks over her shoulder.

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><p>In the dining hall, as dusk set in, he could do nothing but pace. Belle had not returned, and though he'd pretended not to notice at first, sitting at his wheel – all the while checking the view from his windows for a certain rider and mount – he'd eventually abandoned his spinning with the inner excuse to stretch his legs.<p>

He circled past the windows, again and again, concern etching his face with every glance that resulted in seeing no movement outside. His cloak was draped over the chair by the table, and every time he caught a glimpse of it, he wondered if and when he'd need it to find her. He tried to convince himself that he was merely worried she'd run away for good this time; he knew her old family home was to the south and west, in the direction she'd traveled, though many hours away. He'd have no trouble tracking her down, of course, wondering if a punishment would be expected or necessary, and how harshly she should be chastened, though he found that difficult to ponder, given their newly shared love and quiet understanding. All the while, he was trying not to consider the possibility that she was hurt somewhere, and behaving as though he wasn't as worried as he really was.

At long last, the need to know her whereabouts became too much. He was more powerful than this; he shouldn't have to waste his time worrying about runaways that were supposed to be fulfilling a contract. It was those thoughts he forcefully kept in mind – though his heart was gripped with fear that she was lost, alone, hurting, or in need of rescue – as he pulled off the cover from his magic mirror.

He was quick to make his demand of the mirror to reveal Belle, but he couldn't see her in the picture that formed. What was shown was the middle of the forest, so it was dark, with a fresh snow softly falling. In the warmth of his coal-and-wood-driven fire in the dining hall and his concern for Belle's absence, he hadn't noticed the temperature had dropped and clouds had formed in the sky. The river was beyond a long field to the south, and the only patch of woods in the direction she mentioned venturing toward was in the west, so he imagined that was where she'd traveled. In the glass, he could made out thick patches of snow in spots, but no Belle amongst the dark trees and snow-blanketed bushes. Then he saw the closest mound of snow move.

He snatched up his cloak and threw it around his shoulders just as he vanished from the room and appeared in the woods a few feet from Belle. She was unconscious and covered in a layer of snow; he was thankful she had at least been warmly dressed, with long sleeves and her cloak fastened around her neck. Her hood was over her head, but upon inspection, he found that she had a bump just above her temple.

Gathering her up in his arms, he hurried in transporting them back to the Dark Castle. The horse she'd ridden was long gone; though he knew, through the power of his magic, it would be home again in its stall by nightfall.

Belle didn't awaken as he set her in her bed, only moaning in pain as he settled her on top of the covers. He tended to her the best he could; even given his immense power, there were some things that just had to heal on their own. He could take care of the cosmetic aspects of wounds and injuries, restoring them back to the picture of perfect health, and he did that with Belle, healing the bump with a swipe of his hand; just the way he had healed her cheek that day of the queen's visit when his abusive slap had left her with a bruise. She didn't remember that touch, as she'd been under his spell at the time, but he did. Every second of holding her sweet face was burned into his memory, just as he was sure this instance would be as well.

He was still by her side when she awoke an hour later, blinking her eyes open, her face scrunching – against the pain or the brightness of the candlelight, he wasn't sure.

"Where am I?" she groggily asked first.

"In your room," he replied quietly, moving closer with a second blanket. "I believe you were thrown from the horse."

She tried to sit up, but he held her back by the shoulder, sitting beside her hip on the edge of the bed. "There, now; you mustn't try to move, just yet. You need to rest." He opened up the blanket and draped it over her.

The softness of his voice was surprising, but she still did as she was told and again relaxed against the pillows. But a glance at the windows and the darkness beyond them worried her; she must've been asleep for a long time, which could only mean that she hadn't followed his wishes to keep herself out of harm. "Am I hurt? What are you going to do to me?"

He peered at her curiously. "I am tending to your wounds. Just a bump on the head and a few scrapes, but I've already taken care of those. I was most concerned that you were too cold." He lifted the blankets over her and tugged out the warming pan from under her skirt-covered knees to check its temperature.

"What time is it?"

"It's late," he replied simply, his attention on rewarming the pan with his magic.

"Oh..." she mumbled, concerned. "Your supper-" she tried unsuccessfully to sit up, when he nudged her back again.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, love. I'll make do. In fact, it'll be I serving your meal this evening."

He waved at the side table and a bowl of soup appeared, but she groaned, holding her face as she rested again. "Don't bother; I don't think I could eat. My head is throbbing."

"I'm sorry about that," he said as he bypassed the soup-bowl to tend to her headache instead. "I had to wait for you to wake and tell me where it hurts before administering medicines."

She opened one eye slightly to look at him. "This isn't something you can fix with your power?"

"No, love, it isn't. Why do you think I chastened you to be careful in the library that day?"

Belle fought a smile, closing her eyes again. "I thought you were just being overprotective."

He chuckled lightly. "I suppose I was a bit, trying to keep you from finding yourself in this kind of predicament."

"Do you have medicine for the pain in my head?"

"I do," he sang in that silly voice she remembered well from early in their acquaintance, and he opened his hand to reveal a little bottle. The magic was lost on Belle, though, as she still had her eyes closed, but he let it go to continue to nurse her pain. "You'll have to sit up for me."

He didn't wait for her to respond, sitting beside her to lift her with one arm around her shoulders, positioning his bent leg behind her and propping her against his chest. Belle moaned for being moved, but he'd expected as much and opened the bottle, peering around her to lift it to her lips. "Here. Drink this."

She did as she was told, and her eyes shot open when the strong and bitter taste of the greenish-black liquid made her grimace. But it was temporary, as she was more distracted by the way the room seemed to spin. "Oh, I...feel faint," she said with her hand again to her forehead.

"Just...close your eyes and let it pass," he comforted, making the vial disappear before slipping his arm around her waist as he held her close. "It's from hitting your head when you fell."

"You mean, when I slipped," she commented after a moment.

"What do you mean, you 'slipped?'"

Her words were slow and slurred. "I just mean that today was the first time in all my years of riding that I simply slipped off the saddle. I'm embarrassed to admit it."

He practically snickered at her. "There's something to be said about riding with one leg on each side like a man, I suppose," he teased. "Though, perhaps you were out of practice on the side-saddle. You should ride more often."

Noticing then that his arm was around her and his head was pressed up against hers from behind, she could feel his love. Resting her arm over his on her waist, she caressed his hand all the way down to the fingers, letting her fingertips fall between the valleys of his knuckles. "Maybe you should join me in case my clumsiness again gets the best of me," she whispered almost breathlessly as she tilted her head towards him, blinking against the dizziness to try to focus on his face.

"It wouldn't be the first time I'd have to catch you if you were to fall," he spoke just as softly, their faces so, so close.

Belle's heart was starting to pound, and she couldn't seem to move, afraid it would break the spell and end the moment.

But Rumpelstiltskin must have felt the inappropriateness of their positioning, sitting with her in her bed, desiring so to kiss her, because he lightly sighed and quietly said, "I should go and allow you to rest."

She turned her head back to face front and clutched his arm on her stomach. "Oh, no, please don't. Please, stay...just as you are now."

He fought with himself for a moment, knowing he shouldn't, for every second with her in his arms was weakening his resolve to continue on the course he'd begun. He couldn't lose focus of his own endgame or he'd lose her in the process, and yet...he couldn't deny her a few more moments with him either. He wasn't even sure if he could pull himself away if he'd tried. "As you wish," he conceded. "But only until you fall asleep."

She was already well on her way there, he knew, when she mumbled in a slur, "I know you'll catch me."

He hugged her tighter, his cheek pressed up against her hair, and suddenly, the future, when he would no longer have her with him, seemed too near. He thought ahead to when he'd give Regina his approval to initiate the Dark Curse and how it would work. It would start from the fire in which she'd burn the heart of the one she loved most and would spiral outward from there until all of the lands were engulfed. He wasn't sure of the details, having never created such a thing before, but he imagined the damage would be immense, if anyone from their world would be able to watch it happen and come through to the other side unscathed, and had the good fortune – as only Regina would until the savior would reappear – to hold the event in their memory.

And then... He sighed, closing his eyes as he thought of all of the aspects of the Dark Curse, feeling the weight of Belle's head against his cheek, knowing she was asleep. "I'm going to lose you," he found himself whispering, though it was completely unplanned. But, empowered by speaking the truth, with her completely unaware, he went on. "But not forever," he vowed, trying to think positively. "And with the time stopped, it won't even seem like the years it will take."

_Twenty-eight years_, he recalled painfully, thinking of the spell he had to use to transform the bottled love into the cure; the only one from the same dark magic the curse had come from that was strong enough to work and bring it to an end. James and Snow's child would be the key. He knew the Blue Fairy would use the last enchanted tree to let Snow and James escape to the next world with their child, and after twenty-eight years of amnesia for everyone in their world, that baby would break the curse by somehow proving her love. Then they would all return home, and he and Belle would be free. The only upside was that he would regain his memories before everyone else, the moment he heard James and Snow's child speak her own name.

Now, he just needed to know what her name was going to be.

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><p>AN: Reviews are love!


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